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THE    APOSTLES 


THE    WRITINGS    OF 

ERNEST    RENAN 

Translated  by  Joseph  Henry  Allen,  D.D. 

History  of  the  People  of  Israel. 
5  vols. 

The  Life  of  Jesus,     i  vol. 

The  Apostles:  Including  the  Period 
from  the  Death  of  Jesus  until  the 
Greater  Missions  of  Paul,      i  vol. 

Antichrist,     i  vol. 

The  Future  of  Science,     i  vol. 


The  Apostles 

INCLUDING 

THE  PERIOD  FROM  THE  DEATH  OF  JESUS  UNTIL 
THE  GREATER  MISSIONS  OF  PAUL 


BY 

ERNEST   RENAN 

AUTHOR   OF   "THE   HISTORY  OF   THE   PEOPLE  OF   ISRAEL' 
"LIFE  OF  JESUS,"    "ANTICHRIST,"   ETC. 


TRANSLATED  AND  EDITED 
BY 

JOSEPH   HENRY  ALLEN,  D.D. 

LATE    LECTURER   ON    ECCLESIASTICAL   HISTORY    IN    HARVARD    UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 
1903 


Copyright,  1898, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 

AU  rights  reserved. 


Kniberaitg  ^res8: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


2&^ 
iqo5 

EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


In  the  three  volumes  of  this  series,  now  consisting  of 
eight,  which  it  has  been  my  task  to  execute,  it  has 
been  my  first  endeavour  to  give  an  absolutely  faith- 
ful transcript  of  the  form  and  colour  of  the  writer's 
thought,  while  reserving  entire  freedom  as  to  both 
grammatical  structure  and  the  rendering  of  special 
phrases.  The  first  is  the  translator's  evident  duty ; 
the  other  is  his  necessary  privilege.  The  task,  done 
in  my  78th  year,  has  been  found  unexpectedly  labori- 
ous ;  for  a  time,  indeed,  the  strain  upon  nerve  and 
eyesight  threatened  to  make  it  impracticable.  At  the 
same  time,  I  have  found  great  joy  in  the  execution 
of  it,  with  an  increasing  sense  of  the  grandeur  and 
nobility  of  the  theme,  —  the  establishment  of  Chris- 
tianity as  a  moral  power  in  the  world,  —  to  a  right 
understanding  of  which  it  has  been  the  chief  aim  and 
hope  of  my  working  years  to  contribute,  however 
humbly.  In  this  task  I  have  sought  aid  from  the 
best  authorities  within  my  reach.  These  have  been, 
in  addition  to  a  score  or  two  of  Greek  and  Latin 
texts,  the  standard  lexicons  of  those  tongues,  to- 
gether with  Sophocles',  of  later  Greek,  and  Gesenius', 
of  Hebrew ;  the  great  "  Century  "  dictionaries,  Smith's 


vi  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

of  Classical  Antiquities,  and  McClintock  and  Strong's 
Biblical  Encyclopaedia.  For  special  renderings  1  have 
relied  on  Littre  (manual  ed.),  and  have  received  help 
from  the  vast  and  inestimable  encyclopaedic  dictionary 
of  Larousse.  Except  this  last,  these  have  all  been 
kept  at  my  side,  and  habitually  in  use.  The  author's 
very  numerous  references  to  the  New  Testament 
have  been  ordinarily  verified  by  comparison  with  the 
Greek  original  and  the  various  readings  in  Schulz. 
Where  —  as  in  the  volume  entitled  "Antichrist"  — 
entire  passages  have  been  quoted,  I  have  preferred  to 
follow  the  author's  French,  as  a  guide  to  an  inde- 
pendent translation  directly  from  the  Greek,  rather 
than  to  copy  from  the  Revised  Version,  whose  great 
value  as  textual  commentary  should  not  excuse  its 
infelicities  of  diction  and  its  errors  of  grammatical 
construction.^ 

It  is  probable  that  so  complete  a  picture  of  the 
moral  and  social  condition  of  the  world  at  a  great 
historical  epoch  has  never  been  elsewhere  given,  as 
will  be  found  in  the  concluding  chapters  of  the  pres- 
ent volume.  To  the  completeness  and  vivacity  of  this 
picture  three  qualities  have  much  contributed,  which, 
it  may  be  thought,  have  greatly  impeded  the  writer's 
reputation  as  an  historian  and  a  critic.  These  are, 
first,  an  artist's  imagination,  which  puts  him   under 

^  See  "  Unitarian  Review  "  for  Jane,  1888,  p.  553.  For  example,  to 
translate  r6K\i^^  in  Romans  v.  7,  by  "would  dare,"  is  grammatically  im- 
possible. The  revisers  have  here  retained  the  old  error.  The  correct 
meaning  is,  ••  one  readily  dares,"  etc.     (See  id.  for  Oct.  1888,  p.  307.) 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  vii 

the  constant  temptation  to  give  more  definite  form 
and  colour  to  the  figures  on  his  canvas  than  can  always 
be  strictly  verified  from  our  rather  meagre  sources  of 
information;  then,  a  curious  faculty  of  historic  sym- 
pathy, which  insists  on  studying  the  race,  temperament, 
and  even  the  passing  mood  of  his  actors,  with  the  very 
play  of  their  passion  and  motive,  making  (so  to  speak) 
the  moral  atmosphere  of  their  acts  ;  finally,  a  familiar- 
ity with  the  Catholic  tradition  which  gives  the  key  to 
numberless  characters  and  transactions  that  would  be 
unintelligible  without  such  aid.  With  these  qualities, 
he  has  often  been  disparaged  as  a  writer  of  sentimental 
romance  rather  than  an  historian.  Without  them,  he 
would  descend  to  the  level  of  his  critics ;  and  no  one 
who  has  studied  him  (as  we  study  Gibbon)  in  his  foot- 
notes can  doubt  that  here  he  might  well  compete  for 
the  epithet  "  dry-as-dust,"  and  hold  his  own  with  the 
best  and  dullest  of  them.  Some  persons  find  it  hard 
to  believe  that  an  artist  may  also  be  an  anatomist ; 
but,  in  this  case,  we  may  be  content  to  accept  the 
verdict  of  Mommsen,  who  said  that  Renan  was  "  a  true 
scholar,  in  spite  of  the  beauty  of  his  style."  It  is,  per- 
haps, needless  to  say  that  there  are  some  things  in 
each  volume  from  which  I  totally  dissent ;  but  it  is 
no  part  of  my  present  business,  as  I  conceive  it,  to 
suppress  or  to  controvert  them. 

Respecting  the  marginal  references,  especially  to 
such  writers  as  Tacitus,  Suetonius,  and  Josephus,  I 
will  only  say  that  I  have  verified  enough  of  them  to 


viii  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

satisfy  me  of  the  author's  general  care  and  accuracy, 
and  here  I  think  it  is  best  to  stop,  leaving  the  respon- 
sibility with  his  own  edition,  the  thirteenth.  I  have, 
however  (while  giving  the  full  sense  of  every  note), 
transcribed  the  minuter  references  so  fully  in  detail 
that  the  curious  student,  with  the  wealth  of  a  great 
library  at  command,  need  not  be  at  a  loss  in  tracing 
to  its  source  any  mention  of  the  obscurest  inscription, 
coin,  or  anecdote. 

J.  H.  A. 

Cambridge,  Mass., 
February,  1898. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


INTKODUCTION 
Documents    . 


A    Critical    Review    of  the    Original 


Chaptee 

I.  Accounts  of  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus. — a.  d.  33  41 

II.     The  Retreat  in  Galilee.  —  a.  d.  33 60 

III.  The  Return  to  Jerusalem.  —  a.  d.  34 73 

IV.  Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit. — a.  d.  34 81 

V.  The  Primitive  Church  a  Community.  —  a.  d.  35  .    .  94 

VI.  Jewish  Converts  and  Proselytes.  —  a.  d.  36  .     .     .  113 

VII.  Charitable  Acts  and  Institutions.  —  a.  d.  36      .     .  122 

VIII.  First  Persecution  and  the  Death  of  Stephen. — 

A.  D.  37 137 

IX.  First  Missions  ;  Philip  the  Deacon.  — a.  d.  38   .     .  148 

X.     The  Conversion  of  Paul. — a.  d.  38 167 

XI.  The  Church  in  Jud^a.  —  a.  d.  38-41  ......  177 

XII.     Antioch.  —  A.  D.  41 194 

XIII.  Barnabas  ;  a  Mission  to  the  Gentiles.  —  a.  d.  42-44  204 

XIV.  Persecution  Under  Herod  Agrippa.  —  a.  d.  44   .     .  213 
XV.  Simon  of  Gitton  (Simon  Magus). — a.  d.  45     ...  226 

XVI.  General  Course  of  Christian  Missions.  —  a.  d.  45.  237 

XVII.  General  Condition  of  the  World.  —  a.  d.  45    .     .  255 

XVIII.     Laws  Affecting  Religion.  —  a.  d.  45 283 

XIX.     The  Future  of  Missions.  —  a.  d.  45 296 


INDEX 313 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  CRITICAL  REVIEW  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS. 

The  first  volume  of  these  "  Beginnings  of  Christian  History  "  ^ 
has  followed  the  course  of  events  as  far  as  the  death  and 
burial  of  Jesus.  We  have  now  to  take  up  the  narrative  at 
this  point,  namely,  Saturday,  the  4th  of  April,  a.  d.  33.  For 
some  time  yet  it  will  be,  in  a  way,  a  continuation  of  the  "  Life 
of  Jesus."  After  those  months  of  intoxicating  joy,  during 
which  the  great  Founder  laid  the  groundwork  for  a  new 
order  in  human  affairs,  these  succeeding  years  are  the  most 
decisive  in  the  world's  history.  The  same  Jesus  who,  by 
the  sacred  spark  of  life  which  he  kindled  in  the  heart  of  a  few 
friends,  created  the  most  august  of  human  institutions,  still 
stirs  and  renews  the  hearts  of  men,  stamping  that  divine 
seal  upon  them  all.  Under  that  influence,  ever  active  and 
victorious  over  death,  we  shall  see  confirmed  faith  in  the 
resurrection,  in  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  the  gift  of 
tongues,  in  the  authority  of  the  Church.  We  shall  trace  the 
organising  of  the  Church  at  Jerusalem,  its  first  trials,  its 
early  conquests,  the  primitive  missions  proceeding  from  its 
bosom.  We  shall  follow  the  swift  progress  of  Christianity 
through  Syria  as  far  as  Antioch,  where  a  second  capital  is 
founded,  in  one  sense  more  important  than  Jerusalem,  and 
destined  to  supplant  it. 

In  this  new  centre,  where  Pagan  converts  make  the  major- 
ity, we  shall  see  Christianity  definitely  part  company  with 
Judaism,  and  take  a  distinctive  name.     Above  all,  we  shall 

1  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  published  in  this  series  in  1896. 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

witness  the  birth  of  that  grand  idea  of  distant  missions, 
which  are  to  carry  the  name  of  Jesus  into  the  Gentile  world. 
We  shall  pause  at  the  solemn  moment  when  Paul,  Barnabas, 
and  John  Mark  set  forth  for  the  execution  of  this  great 
design.  Here  we  shall  suspend  our  story,  to  throw  a  glance 
upon  the  world  whose  conversion  is  the  aim  of  these  bold 
messengers;  and  shall  try  to  make  clear  to  ourselves  the 
intellectual,  political,  moral,  religious,  and  social  condition 
of  the  Roman  Empire  about  the  year  45,  the  probable  date 
of  Saint  Paul's  departure  on  his  first  mission. 

Such  is  the  subject  of  this  second  volume.  I  call  it  "  The 
Apostles,"  because  it  sets  forth  the  period  of  action  in  com- 
mon, while  the  little  household  of  Jesus  walks  together,  and 
is  morally  grouped  about  the  one  centre,  Jerusalem.  The 
third  will  carry  us  beyond  this  "upper  room,"  and  show 
Saint  Paul  almost  alone  upon  the  stage,  the  man  who  more 
than  any  other  represents  Christianity  as  a  conqueror  and 
wayfarer.  Paul,  though  after  a  certain  crisis  he  assumed 
the  name  Apostle,  by  no  means  had  the  same  title  to  it  with 
the  Twelve.^  He  is  a  labourer  who  has  come  in  at  the 
second  hour,  almost  an  intruder.  The  condition  of  the 
documents  that  have  come  down  to  us  tends  to  deceive  us 
on  this  point.  Since  we  know  far  more  facts  relating  to 
Paul  than  to  the  Twelve,  and  since  we  have  his  own  writ- 
ings, with  very  exact  memorials  on  various  incidents  of  his 
career,  we  ascribe  to  him  the  very  highest  importance,  almost 
higher  than  that  accorded  to  Jesus.  This  is  an  error.  Paul 
is  a  very  great  man,  whose  share  in  the  founding  of  Chris- 
tianity was  of  the  utmost  value.  But  he  is  not  to  be  com- 
pared with  Jesus,  or  even  with  the  immediate  disciples  of 
Jesus.  Paul  had  never  seen  the  Master,  or  tasted  the  fra- 
grance of  the  ministry  in  Galilee.  The  most  ordinary  man 
who  had  shared  in  that  heavenly  manna  is,  in  that  one 
thing,  the  superior  of  one  who  has  savoured  only  (as  it  were) 
an  aftertaste  of  it.     Nothing  is  more  false  than  a  view  which 

*  The  writer  of  Acts  never  once  gives  this  name  to  Paul,  reserving 
it  exclusively  to  the  members  of  the  central  group  at  Jerusalem. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  3 

has  come  into  fashion  in  our  day:  that  Paul  was  the  real 
founder  of  Christianity.  Jesus  was  the  real  Founder.  The 
highest  place  after  him  is  to  be  reserved  for  those  great  but 
obscure  companions  of  his,  those  impassioned  and  loyal 
women,  who  even  in  spite  of  death  believed  in  him.  Paul 
was  in  the  first  century,  so  to  speak,  a  man  apart.  He  left 
no  established  school.  On  the  contrary,  he  left  eager  adver- 
saries, who  after  his  death  desired  to  exclude  him  from  the 
Church,  and  to  put  him  upon  the  footing  of  Simon  Magus. ^ 
He  was  bereft  even  of  that  which  we  hold  to  have  been  his 
special  work,  the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles.^  The  church  at 
Corinth,  which  he  alone  had  founded,^  claimed  that  its  origin 
was  due  both  to  him  and  to  Peter.*  In  the  second  century, 
Papias  and  Justin  do  not  once  speak  his  name.  Afterwards, 
when  oral  tradition  was  no  longer  anything,  when  scripture 
was  all,  Paul  took  leading  rank  in  Christian  theology.  He 
had,  in  short,  a  theology,  which  Peter  and  Mary  Magdalen 
had  not.  He  has  left  writings  of  importance;  those  of 
the  other  Apostles  cannot  contend  with  his  in  weight  or 
in  authenticity. 

At  first  view,  the  documents  for  the  period  embraced  in 
this  volume  are  few  and  quite  unsatisfying.  First-hand 
evidence  is  found  only  in  the  earlier  chapters  of  "  Acts ;  " 
and  the  historical  value  of  these  is  open  to  grave  objections. 
The  obscurity  is,  it  is  true,  partly  dispelled  by  the  closing 
chapters  of  the  Gospels,  and  especially  by  Paul's  epistles. 
An  ancient  writing  serves,  first,  to  make  the  period  of  its 
composition  known,  and,  secondly,  that  which  was  just 
before.  Every  written  document,  in  fact,  suggests  infer- 
ences as  to  the  social  condition  out  of  which  it  has  sprung. 
The  epistles  of  Paul,  dictated  from  a.  d.  53  to  62,  or  there- 

*  Pseudo-Clementine  Homilies,  xvii.  13-19. 

2  Justin,  Apol.  i.  39.  The  idea  also  predominates  in  Acts  that  Peter 
■was  the  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles  :  see,  especially,  chap.  x.  and  compare 
1  Pet.  i.  1. 

«  1  Cor.  iii.  6,  10;  iv.  14,  15;  ix.  1,  2;  2  Cor.  xi.  2-4. 

*  Letter  of  Dionysius  of  Corinth,  in  Euseb.  ii.  25. 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

about,  are  full  of  information  as  to  the  first  years  of  Chris- 
tian history.  Since,  moreover,  we  have  to  treat  of  great 
foundations  without  precise  data,  our  first  task  is  to  show 
the  conditions  under  which  they  took  shape.  As  to  this  I 
have  to  say,  once  for  all,  that  the  dates  I  have  given  to 
these  chapters  are  only  approximate.  There  are  few  fixed 
points  of  chronology  in  these  early  years.  Still,  —  thanks  to 
the  care  taken  by  the  writer  of  "  Acts  "  to  keep  the  true 
succession  of  events,  — thanks  to  "Galatians,"  in  which  we 
find  some  numerical  hints  of  the  highest  value,  and  to 
Josephus,  who  supplies  the  dates  of  secular  events  con- 
nected with  the  apostolic  history,  —  we  can  stretch  a  reason- 
ably probable  canvas  for  our  story,  in  which  the  chances  of 
error  are  kept  within  very  narrow  limits. 

Here  I  will  say  again  what  I  said  in  the  preface  to  the 
"Life  of  Jesus."  ^  In  histories  like  this,  where  we  can  be 
sure  only  of  the  main  fact,  while  all  details  are  more  or  less 
open  to  doubt  from  the  legendary  character  of  the  documents, 
hypothesis  is  unavoidable.  Hypothesis  has  no  place  regard- 
ing periods  wholly  unknown.  An  attempt  to  reconstruct  a 
group  of  ancient  statuary  which  we  are  sure  once  existed, 
but  of  which  no  remnant  and  no  written  description  survives, 
is  a  purely  arbitrary  task.  But  what  can  be  more  legitimate 
than  an  attempt  to  reconstruct  the  pediments  of  the  Par- 
thenon from  the  portions  which  still  exist,  with  the  aid  of 
ancient  descriptions,  drawings  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
and  information  of  every  sort,  —  in  a  word,  by  catching 
the  inspiration  of  the  style  of  these  inimitable  fragments, 
and  trying  to  seize  their  soul  and  life?  We  cannot  say 
that,  with  all  this,  we  have  rediscovered  the  work  of  the 
ancient  sculptor,  but  we  have  done  what  we  could  to  come 
near  it.  Such  a  process  is  the  more  permissible  in  history, 
inasmuch  as  language  allows  degrees  of  precision  which 
marble  does  not.  We  may  even  grant  the  reader  his  free 
choice  among  various  suppositions.  The  writer's  conscience 
may  be  at  ease  when  he  has  stated  as  certain  what  is  cer- 

^  See  p.  29  of  the  American  translation. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  5 

tain,  as  likely  what  is  likely,  as  possible  what  is  possible. 
Where  the  footing  is  unsteady  between  history  and  legend, 
he  can  aim  only  at  the  general  result.  In  the  succeeding 
volume,  —  that  devoted  to  Saint  Paul,  for  which  we  have 
documents  perfectly  historical,  and  may  paint  characters  from 
the  life  and  tell  facts  just  as  they  took  place,  —  we  stand  on 
firmer  ground,  while  yet  the  general  aspect  of  that  period 
is  none  the  clearer.  Established  facts  speak  louder  than  all 
biographical  details.  We  know  very  little  of  those  incom- 
parable artists  who  created  the  masterpieces  of  Greek  art. 
But  these  masterpieces  tell  us  more  of  the  person  of  their 
creators,  and  of  the  public  that  understood  them,  than  could 
be  told  in  the  most  circumstantial  story  or  the  best  authen- 
ticated texts. 

For  the  critical  incidents  that  took  place  in  the  first  days 
after  the  death  of  Jesus,  our  authorities  are  the  closing 
chapters  of  the  Gospels,  which  relate  the  apparitions  of  the 
risen  Christ.  ^  I  need  not  repeat  here  what  has  been  said 
in  the  Introduction  to  the  "  Life  of  Jesus  "  as  to  the  historical 
value  of  such  documents.  In  this  portion  of  our  history 
we  are  fortunate  in  having  a  parallel  account  which  we  too 
often  lack  in  that  which  precedes.  This  is  the  very  signi- 
ficant passage  of  Paul  in  "First  Corinthians,"  xv.  6-8, 
which  asserts:  1.  The  reality  of  the  apparitions;  2.  their 
long  continuance,  contrary  to  the  account  in  the  Gospels ;  3. 
the  several  places  where  they  took  place,  contrary  to  the 
accounts  of  Mark  and  Luke.  A  study  of  this  fundamental 
text,  with  other  considerations,  confirms  me  in  the  view  I 
have  before  expressed  as  to  the  relation  of  the  Fourth 
Gospel  to  the  Synoptics.  Regarding  the  account  of  the 
resurrection  and  the  apparitions,  the  Fourth  Gospel  retains 
its  usual  superiority  over  the  other  evangelists.  It  is  here, 
if  anywhere,  that  we  should  seek  a  connected  and  logical 
narrative,  permitting  a  probable  conjecture  as  to  what,  apart 

^  For  the  discussion  and  comparison  of  the  several  narratives,  see 
Strauss,  *' Life  of  Jesus,"  sect.  iii.  chap.  4,  5;  also  his  "  New  Life  of 
Jesus,"  i.  §  46  et  seq. ;  ii.  §  97  et  seq. 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

from  all  illusions,  really  took  place.  Here  I  touch  on  the 
hardest  question  of  all,  referring  to  the  beginnings  of  Chris- 
tian history,  —  What  is  the  historical  value  of  the  Fourth 
Gospel  ?  The  use  made  of  it  in  my  "  Life  of  Jesus  "  is  the 
point  of  most  of  the  objections  raised  by  my  enlightened 
critics.  Almost  all  scholars  who  deal  with  the  history  of 
religious  opinion  by  a  rational  method  reject  the  Fourth 
Gospel  as  wholly  apocryphal.  I  have  carefully  reviewed 
my  ground  as  to  this  question,  and  have  not  shifted  it  to 
any  noticeable  extent.  Still,  as  I  vary  from  the  common 
opinion  upon  this  point,  I  have  felt  it  my  duty  to  set  forth 
in  detail  the  reasons  for  adhering  to  my  former  position. 
These  reasons  will  be  found  in  the  Appendix  to  the  later  and 
revised  editions  of  the  "Life  of  Jesus." 

The  most  important  document  for  the  period  now  under 
review  is  the  "Acts  of  the  Apostles."  Here  I  must  make 
clear  my  view  regarding  the  character  of  this  composition, 
its  value  as  historical  evidence,  and  the  use  which  has  been 
made  of  it. 

Without  doubt  the  book  of  "  Acts  "  was  written  by  the 
author  of  the  Third  Gospel,  and  is  a  continuation  of  it. 
This  point  needs  no  proof,  and  has  never  been  seriously 
disputed.  1  The  prefaces  to  these  two  documents,  the  dedi- 
cation of  each  to  Theophilus,  and  the  perfect  likeness  in 
style  and  ideas,  are  ample  proof. 

Another  point,  not  so  certain  but  still  quite  probable,  is 
that  the  writer  of  "  Acts "  was  a  companion  of  Paul,  who 
attended  him  in  many  of  his  journejdngs.  At  first  glance, 
this  view  seems  unquestionable.  In  many  passages,  begin- 
ning with  xvi.  10,  the  writer  uses  in  his  account  the  pronoun 
"we,"  thus  showing  that,  for  the  time  at  least,  he  was  of  the 
company  gathered  about  Paul.  This  seems  ample  proof. 
The  only  escape  from  the  force  of  this  argument  is  to  sup- 
pose the  passages  containing  the  pronoun  "  we  "  to  have  been 

1  It  was  early  accepted  by  the  Church  as  self-evident :  see  the  Canon  of 
Muratori  (Antiq.  Ital.  iii.  854),  collated  by  Wieseler  and  restored  by 
Laurent  (Neutest.  Studien,  Gotha,  1866),  lines  33  et  seq. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.       '  7 

copied  by  the  latest  compiler  of  "Acts"  from  an  earlier 
account  in  the  memoir  of  some  original  disciple  of  Paul,  — 
Timothy,  for  example,  — ■  the  compiler  neglecting  to  supply, 
in  place  of  "we,"  the  writer's  name.  This  can  hardly  be 
admitted;  such  negligence  would  be  intelligible  only  in  the 
rudest  of  compilations.  But  the  Third  Gospel  and  the  "  Acts  " 
form  together  a  well-conceived  work,  composed  with  thought 
and  skill,  written  by  one  hand  upon  a  coherent  plan.^  The 
two,  when  put  together,  make  up  one  whole,  exactly  in  the 
same  style,  showing  the  same  favourite  expressions  and  the 
same  way  of  quoting  Scripture.  So  shocking  a  fault  in  com- 
position as  that  supposed  would  be  unaccountable.  Thus 
we  are  irresistibly  led  to  conclude  that  the  beginning  and  end 
of  the  book  were  written  by  the  same  hand,  and  that  he  who 
has  spoken  in  the  first  person  in  some  passages  is  the  author 
of  the  whole. 

This  becomes  the  more  convincing  when  we  call  to  mind 
the  circumstances  under  which  the  narrator  is  found  in 
Paul's  company.  This,  as  we  have  seen,  is  just  when  Paul 
is  going  over  to  Macedonia  for  the  first  time  ("  Acts  "  xvi.  10), 
and  the  expression  "  we  "  continues  until  his  departure  from 
Philippi.  It  is  resumed  when  Paul,  on  his  second  visit  to 
Macedonia,  passes  again  through  Philippi  (id.  xx.  5,  6),  and 
after  this,  the  writer  remains  with  Paul  to  the  end.  If  we 
remark,  besides,  that  the  chapters  showing  this  companion- 
ship have  a  special  character  of  precision,  we  no  longer  doubt 
that  the  writer  was  a  Macedonian,  probably  of  Philippi, ^ 
who  preceded  Paul  to  Troas  on  his  second  mission,  remained 
at  Philippi  when  the  apostle  left  for  Athens,  and  rejoined 
him  for  good  when  on  his  third  mission  he  passed  by  way  of 
Philippi.  Can  we  suppose  that  a  compiler,  writing  at  a 
distance,  allowed  himself  to  be  thus  controlled  by  another 
man's  recollections?  These  would  only  make  an  awkward 
patch  upon  the  work.  The  writer  speaking  in  the  first 
person  would   have  his    own   style,   his   peculiar  forms   of 

1  Compare  the  Introductions  :  Luke  i.  1-4  ;  Acts  i.  1. 

2  See  in  particular  Acts  xvi.  12. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

expression ;  ^  he  would  speak  more  after  the  manner  of  Paul 
than  would  the  compiler.  But  this  is  not  the  case.  The 
work  is  perfectly  harmonious  and  self-consistent. 

It  may  perhaps  be  matter  of  surprise  that  a  point  appar- 
ently so  clear  should  ever  have  been  doubted.  But  a  critical 
study  of  the  New  Testament  writings  shows  us  many  an 
example)  of  apparent  certainty  which  proves  on  examination 
to  be  full  of  doubt.  Whether  as  to  style,  thought,  or 
doctrine,  we  do  not  find  in  "Acts  "  what  we  should  look  for 
from  a  disciple  of  Paul.  The  book  is  in  no  respect  like  the 
Pauline  epistles.  Not  a  trace  of  that  haughty  assertion  of 
opinion  which  gives  to  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  so  marked 
originality.  Paul's  temperament  is  that  of  a  Protestant, 
stiff  and  independent;  the  writer  of  "Acts"  makes  us  think 
of  a  good  Catholic,  docile  and  optimistic,  who  speaks  of 
every  priest  as  "a  holy  priest,"  calls  every  bishop  "a  great 
bishop,"  and  is  ready  to  accept  any  fiction  rather  than  admit 
that  these  holy  priests  and  great  bishops  dispute  among 
themselves  with  sharp  attack  and  obstinate  defence.  While 
professing  the  highest  admiration  for  Paul,  the  writer  of 
"Acts"  is  careful  not  to  give  him  the  title  of  " apostle, "^ 
and  holds  that  it  was  Peter  who  first  began  the  conversion 
of  Gentiles.  He  may  be  termed,  in  short,  a  disciple  of 
Peter  rather  than  of  Paul.  It  will  soon  appear  that  in  more 
than  one  instance  his  conciliatory  temper  has  led  him  seriously 
to  distort  the  personal  history  of  Paul ;  he  is  guilty  of  inac- 
curacies,^ and  still  more  of  omissions,  which  would  be 
strange  indeed  as  coming  from  one  of  Paul's  disciples.* 
He  never  speaks  of  one  of  the  epistles,  and  he  is  strangely 

^  The  poverty  of  expression  with  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament, 
as  we  know,  is  such  that  each  may  be  said  to  have  his  own  limited  vocabu- 
lary. This  makes  a  serviceable  rule  in  fixing  the  authorship  of  the  briefer 
compositions. 

2  In  chap.  xiv.  4,  14,  where  Paul  and  Barnabas  are  called  "  apostles," 
the  expression  is  loose  and  indirect. 

*  Compare  Acts  xvii.  14-16,  xviii.  5,  with  1  Thess.  iii.  1,  2. 

*  1  Cor.  XV.  32  ;  2  C!or.  i.  8  ;  xi.  23-28 ;  Rom.  xv.  19;  xvi.  3-7. 


RE  VIE  H^  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  9 

silent  on  points  most  requiring  explanation.^  Even  when  he 
would  seem  to  have  been  Paul's  companion,  he  is  sometimes 
curiously  dry,  ill-informed,  and  unobservant.^  In  short,  the 
smooth  vagueness  of  certain  portions,  the  conventional  tone 
observable  here  and  there,  would  lead  us  to  suppose  a  writer 
who  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Apostles,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, but  wrote  somewhere  about  the  year  100  or  120. 

Should  we  stop  short  at  these  objections  ?  I  do  not  think 
so.  I  still  hold  that  the  latest  compiler  of  "Acts"  is  really 
the  disciple  of  Paul,  who  says  "  we  "  in  the  final  chapters. 
All  the  difiiculties,  unanswerable  as  they  may  seem,  should 
be  at  least  held  in  suspense,  if  not  wholly  put  aside  by 
a  consideration  so  decisive  as  the  use  of  "we."  Further, 
in  ascribing  this  book  to  a  companion  of  Paul,  we  throw 
light  on  two  essential  points:  first,  the  disproportion  of 
parts,  more  than  three-fifths  of  the  entire  book  being  devoted 
to  Paul  alone;  and  again,  a  like  disproportion  in  Paul's 
own  life,  his  first  mission  being  treated  with  extreme  brevity, 
while  the  second  and  third,  and  especially  his  last  journey- 
ings,  are  told  in  minute  detail.  A  writer  wholly  unfamiliar 
with  the  apostolic  story  would  surely  not  have  been  thus 
unequal.  His  work  would  have  been  better  planned  as  a 
whole.  A  history  constructed  from  written  documents  is 
distinguished  from  a  history  wholly  or  in  part  original  by 
this  very  disproportion.  The  closet-historian  takes  for  his 
ground-plan  events  as  they  have  actually  occurred;  the 
writer  of  memoirs  takes  for  his  ground-plan  his  own  recol- 
lections, or  at  least  his  personal  relations.  A  church  his- 
torian, writing  about  120,  would  have  left  us  a  book  quite 
differently  put  together  from  that  which  we  find  in  "Acts  " 
after  the  thirteenth  chapter.  The  strange  way  in  which  the 
book  quits  at  this  point  the  orbit  in  which  it  has  hitherto 
revolved,  can,  as  I  think,  be  explained  only  by  the  special 
position  of  the  writer,  and  his  relations  with  Paul.  And 
this  view  will  be  strengthened  if,  among  the  known  fellow- 

1  Thus,  compare  Acts  xvi.  6  ;  xviii.  22,  23,  with  Galatians. 

2  Thus  the  stay  at  Csesarea  is  left  quite  in  the  dark. 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

labourers  of  Paul,  we  find  the  name  of  the  writer  to  whom 
tradition  has  ascribed  this  book. 

This  is  in  fact  the  case.  Tradition  and  manuscript  author- 
ity both  name  as  author  of  the  Third  Gospel  one  Lucanus  ^ 
or  Lucas.  From  what  has  been  already  said  it  follows  that, 
if  Lucas  is  really  the  writer  of  the  Third  Gospel,  he  is 
equally  the  writer  of  "Acts."  Now  this  name  is  found  as 
that  of  a  companion  of  Paul  in  "  Colossians, "  iv.  14,  in 
"Philemon,"  ver.  24,  and  in  "Second  Timothy,"  iv.  11. 
The  last  is  of  more  than  doubtful  genuineness.  "Colos- 
sians" and  "Philemon,"  again,  though  probably  genuine,  are 
yet  not  among  the  more  unquestioned  writings  of  Paul. 
But  in  any  case,  .these  epistles  belong  to  the  first  century; 
and  that  is  enough  to  prove,  without  question,  that  there 
was  a  Lucas  among  Paul's  disciples.  The  composer  of  the 
epistles  to  Timothy  was,  at  any  rate,  not  the  same  with 
the  composer  of  those  to  the  Colossians  and  to  Philemon, 
—  supposing  these  latter  to  be  apocryphal,  which  I  do  not 
think.  It  is  little  likely  that  the  author  of  a  forged  docu- 
ment would  have  attributed  to  Paul  an  imaginary  com- 
panion ;  certainly  different  forgers  would  not  have  happened 
upon  the  same  name.  Two  observations  greatly  strengthen 
this  view.  First,  the  name  Lucas  or  Lucanus  is  very  rare 
among  the  earliest  Christians,  so  that  we  are  never  led  to 
confuse  two  of  that  name ;  secondly,  the  "  Luke "  of  the 
epistles  has  no  celebrity  apart  from  this  mention.  To  put  a 
well-known  name  at  the  head  of  a  composition,  —  as  was 
done  with  the  second  epistle  of  Peter,  and  (very  probably) 
with  the  Pauline  epistles  to  Timothy  and  Titus,  —  was  in 
no  way  repugnant  to  the  manner  of  the  time.  But  to  put 
to  such  use  a  name  not  only  false  but  obscure,  would  be 
inconceivable.  Was  it  the  intention  of  the  falsifier  to  give 
his  book  the  authority  of  Paul?  But  then  why  not  take 
Paul's  own  name,  or  at  least  that  of  Timothy  or  Titus,  who 
were  far  better  known  as  his  disciples?  Luke  had  no  stand- 
ing in  tradition,  legend,  or  history.     The  three  passages  of 

^  Mabillon,  Museum  Italicum,  i.  109. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  u 

the  epistles  just  referred  to  could  not,  of  themselves,  give 
him  a  warrant  accepted  by  everybody.  The  epistles  to 
Timothy  and  Titus  were  probably  written  later  than  "Acts." 
The  mentions  of  Luke  in  "Colossians"  and  "Philemon"  are 
in  truth  but  one,  since  both  these  epistles  make  up  one 
message.  I  think,  then,  that  the  writer  of  the  Third  Gospel 
and  of  "  Acts  "  is  really  Luke,  the  disciple  of  Paul. 

This  very  name,  Luke  or  Lucan,  and  the  character  of 
physician  held  by  Paul's  disciple  of  that  name  (Col.  iv.  14), 
well  correspond  with  the  hints  as  to  authorship  to  be  found  in 
the  books  themselves.  It  has  been  shown  above  (page  7) 
tliat  the  writer  of  the  Third  Gospel  and  of  "  Acts  "  was 
probably  from  Philippi,  a  Roman  colonial  town,  where  the 
Latin  element  predominated. ^  Besides,  this  writer  was  ill- 
informed  as  to  Judaism  and  matters  in  Palestine ;  ^  he  knew 
little  of  Hebrew;^  he  was  acquainted  with  the  ideas  of  the 
pagan  world,  as  we  see  in  his  speech  at  Athens  (chap.  xvii. 
22-28),  and  writes  Greek  quite  correctly.  He  wrote  at  a 
distance  from  Judaea  for  persons  ill-acquainted  with  its  topog- 
raphy,* who  cared  nothing  for  rabbinical  learning  or  Hebrew 
names. ^  His  leading  idea  is  that,  if  the  common  people  had 
been  free  to  follow  their  own  choice,  they  would  have 
embraced  the   faith   of   Jesus,    but  were  prevented  by  the 

1  Almost  all  the  inscriptions  at  Philippi,  and  at  Neapolis  (Cavala)  are 
in  Latin  (Heuzey,  Mission  de  Macedoine,  p.  11).  The  acquaintance 
with  seamanship  shown  by  the  writer  of  "  Acts,"  especially  in  chaps, 
xxvii.  xxviii.,  would  suggest  that  he  was  from  Xeapolis. 

2  See  Acts  v.  36,  37 ;  x.  28. 

8  The  hebraisms  of  his  style  might  come  from  the  diligent  reading  of 
the  Old  Testament  in  Greek  translations,  and  particularly  of  writings 
composed  by  his  fellow-religionists  in  Palestine,  whom  he  copied  word  for 
word.  His  citations  from  the  Old  Testament  (as  in  Acts  xv.  16,  17)  are 
made  without  knowledge  of  the  original. 

*  See  Luke  i.  26  ;  iv.  31 ;  xxiv.  13 ;  and  compare  the  note  on  Emmaus 
in  chap,  i.,  below. 

^  Luke  i.  31,  compared  with  Matt.  i.  21.  The  name  Joanna,  known 
only  to  Luke,  is  very  doubtful.  There  seems  to  have  been  at  this  time 
no  female  name  corresponding  to  John  (but  see  Babyl.  Talm.,  Sola, 
22  a). 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

Jewish  aristocracy.^  The  word  "Jew"  is  always  taken  by 
nim  in  ill  part,  as  synonymous  with  "enemy  of  the  Chris- 
tians, "^  while  he  appears  well  disposed  to  the  heretical 
Samaritans.  3 

To  what  date  can  we  refer  this  important  document? 
Luke  first  appears  in  Paul's  company  during  his  first  journey 
to  Macedonia,  about  a.  d.  62.  Suppose  him  to  have  been  at 
this  time  twenty-five  years  old,  there  would  be  nothing 
unusual  if  he  were  living  at  the  end  of  the  century.  The 
narrative  of  "Acts"  closes  in  63.  But  its  composition  was 
evidently  later  than  that  of  the  Third  Gospel,  whose  date 
is  pretty  certainly  fixed  in  the  years  immediately  following 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  (a.  d.  70).*  The  composition  of 
"  Acts "  cannot,  therefore,  have  been  earlier  than  71  or  72. 

We  might  rest  here  if  it  were  sure  that  "Acts  "  was  written 
directly  after  the  Gospel.  But  here  is  room  for  doubt.  We 
are  led  to  think  that  there  was  some  interval  between  the 
two.  In  fact,  we  note  a  marked  contradiction  between  the 
last  chapters  of  the  Gospel  and  the  first  of  "Acts."  In  the 
former  the  ascension  of  Jesus  would  seem  to  have  taken 
place  on  the  same  day  with  the  resurrection ;  ^  while  in  the 
latter  ("  Acts  "  i.  3,  9),  it  is  stated  to  have  been  forty  days 
later.  This  last  shows  us  clearly  a  more  developed  form  of  the 
legend,  suggested  doubtless  by  the  need  of  finding  space  for 
the  several  apparitions,  and  giving  full  and  logical  sequence 
to  the  events  following  the  entombment.  This  new  mode  of 
conception,  as  we  may  suppose,  did  not  occur  to  the  writer 
before  the  interval  between  the  two  compositions.  In  any 
event,  it  is  singular  that  the  writer,  a  few  lines  later  on, 
finds  himself  obliged  to  expand  the  earlier  narrative,  adding 

1  Acts  ii.  47  ;  iv.  33  ;  v.  13,  26. 

2  Acts  ix.  22,  23;  xii.  3,  11;  xiii.  45,  50,  and  many  other  passages. 
It  is  the  same  with  the  Fourth  Grospel,  which  also  was  composed  away 
from  Syria. 

8  Luke  X.  33-35;  xvii.  16 ;  Acts  viii.  5-8.  So  in  the  Fourth  Gospel: 
John  iv.  5-30,  as  contrasted  with  Matt.  x.  5,  6. 

*  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  Introd.  p.  45. 

*  Luke  xxiv.  50 ;  so  too  in  Mark  xvi.  19. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  13 

further  circumstances.  If  the  former  composition  was  still 
in  hand,  why  not  make  in  that  those  additions  which,  sepa- 
rated as  they  are,  have  so  awkward  a  look?  Still,  this  is 
not  conclusive ;  and  the  preface  to  the  Gospel,  which  seems 
common  to  both  books,  —  especially  the  phrase,  "  things  most 
surely  received  among  us,"  —  might  well  make  us  think  that 
Luke  conceived  the  plan  as  a  whole  from  the  outset.  The 
contradiction  just  indicated  may,  it  is  true,  be  explained  as 
simply  neglect  to  give  a  strict  record  of  the  times,  whence  the 
several  accounts  of  what  befell  after  the  resurrection  are  in 
such  complete  disaccord.  Accurate  history  was  so  little  cared 
for  that  there  was  no  scruple  in  setting  forth,  one  after  the 
other,  two  views  of  the  event  irreconcilably  at  variance. 
The  three  accounts  of  Paul's  conversion  —  in  chapters  x. 
xxii.,  and  xxvi.  — show  also  slight  variations,  which  prove 
merely  the  writer's  disregard  of  accurate  detail. 

We  shall  not  be  far  from  the  fact  if  we  suppose  the  book 
of  "  Acts  "  to  have  been  composed  about  A.  d.  80.  The 
spirit  of  the  book  answers  well  to  the  early  years  of  the 
Flavian  emperors.  The  writer  seems  to  shun  everything 
that  might  offend  the  Romans.  He  likes  to  show  how 
Roman  officials  favoured  the  new  sect,  sometimes  even  joined 
it,  —  as  in  the  case  of  the  centurion  Cornelius,  and  of  the 
proconsul  Sergius  Paulus ;  how  they  at  least  protected  it 
against  the  Jews,  how  equitable  was  imperial  justice,  and 
how  superior  to  the  passions  of  local  powers.  ^  He  particu- 
larly insists  on  the  advantage  which  Paul  found  in  his 
claim  to  Roman  citizenship. ^  He  cuts  his  narrative  short 
off  at  the  moment  of  Paul's  arrival  at  Rome,  apparently  so 
as  not  to  have  to  relate  the  cruelties  of  Nero  toward  the 
Christians.^     The   Apocalypse    shows   a  striking    contrast. 

1  See  Acts  xiii.  6-12  [at  Paphos] ;  xviii.  12-17  [at  Corinth] ;  xix.  35-41 
[at  Ephesus] ;  xxiv.  7,  17  [at  Jerusalem] ;  xxv.  9, 16, 25  [before  Festus]; 
xxvii.  2;  xxviii.  17,  18  [at  Rome], 

2  Acts  xvi.  37-40;  xxii.  26-29. 

8  These  precautions  were  not  rare.  The  Apocalypse  and  First  Peter 
speak  of  Rome  in  disguised  phrase  [as  "  Babylon  "]. 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

Written  in  the  year  68,  —  four  years  after  the  Neronian  per- 
secution, and  amid  the  agonies  of  the  Jewish  terror,  —  it  is 
full  of  the  memories  of  Nero's  enormities,  full  of  a  deadly 
and  despairing  hate  against  Rome.  Here,  on  the  contrary, 
we  find  a  man  of  gentle  temper,  who  lives  in  a  season  of 
calm.  From  about  the  year  70  until  the  end  of  the  first 
century,  the  situation  was  fairly  favourable  to  the  Christians. 
Members  of  the  Flavian  household  were  found  in  their  com- 
munity. Who  knows  but  that  Luke  was  acquainted  with 
Flavins  Clemens,  —  nay,  even  one  of  his  household ;  whether 
the  "Acts"  were  not  written  for  this  potent  magistrate, 
whose  official  rank  demanded  some  reverence  of  speech? 
Certain  indications  have  led  to  the  belief  that  the  book  was 
written  at  Rome,  and  that  the  conditions  of  life  to  the  church 
in  Rome  weighed  heavily  on  the  author.  This  church  had 
from  the  first  the  political  and  hierarchal  character  which  has 
belonged  to  it  ever  since.  Luke,  a  man  of  kindly  spirit, 
may  well  have  been  influenced  by  this.  His  ideas  on  church 
authority  are  very  advanced:  we  see  already  sprouting  in 
him  the  germs  of  the  episcopate.  He  writes  history  in  the 
tone  of  an  apologist  at  all  hazards, — which  is  just  that  of  the 
official  historians  of  the  Roman  See.  He  does  just  what  an 
Ultramontane  of  the  time  of  Clement  XIV.  would  have  done, 
—  one  who  would  praise  alike  the  pope  and  the  Jesuits,  and 
would  fain  persuade  us,  by  an  emotional  tale,  that  the  rules 
of  brotherly  love  are  equally  kept  on  both  sides  in  the  debate. 
In  two  centuries  more  it  will  be  held  that  Cardinal  Antonelli 
and  his  bitter  opponent,  M.  de  M^rode,  loved  each  other  like 
brothers.  The  writer  of  "Acts  "  —  with  a  simple  good  faith 
no  longer  found — ^was  the  first  of  these  "reconciling" 
narrators,  blissfully  content  with  the  situation,  and  resolute 
to  find  all  within  the  Church  going  on  in  true  gospel-fashion. 
Too  loyal  to  condemn  his  master  Paul,  too  orthodox  not  to 
side  with  the  official  opinion  then  prevalent,  he  wipes  out  the 
difference  of  doctrine  so  as  to  show  only  the  common  end  in 
view,  which  these  exalted  founders  pursued  by  paths  so 
opposite  and  through  rivalries  so  keen. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  15 

Now  it  is  clear  that  one  who  has  committed  himself  on 
system  to  such  a  determination  of  mind  is  the  least  capable 
of  men  to  exhibit  things  as  they  really  were.  To  historic 
fidelity  he  is  quite  indifferent;  edification  is  all  he  really 
cares  for.  Luke  makes  no  secret  of  this.  He  writes  that 
Theophilus  may  "  know  the  certainty  of  those  things  he  has 
been  instructed  in  by  the  catechist"  \icar7]X'n^'n^^i'  It  thus 
appears  that  there  was  already  a  system  of  church  history 
agreed  upon  and  officially  taught,  whose  groundwork,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  Gospel  story  itself  ("Acts  "  i.  22),  was  most 
likely  already  fixed.  The  leading  trait  in  "Acts,"  as  in  the 
Third  Gospel,  is  a  tender  piety,  a  warm  sympathy  for  gen- 
tiles, —  as  shown  in  the  story  of  Cornelius,  —  a  reconciling 
temper,  a  great  predilection  for  the  supernatural,  tenderness 
to  the  poor  and  humble,  a  strongly  democratic  feeling,  —  or 
rather  a  persuasion  that  the  common  people  are  naturally 
Christians,  prevented  only  by  the  rich  and  mighty  from  fol- 
lowing their  right,  proper  instincts,  —  an  exalted  notion  of  the 
power  of  the  Church  and  its  leaders,  with  a  very  remarkable 
inclination  to  communistic  life.^  The  methods  of  composi- 
tion are  likewise  the  same  in  the  two  works,  so  that,  regard- 
ing the  apostolic  history,  we  are  just  where  we  should  be 
regarding  the  gospel  narrative  if  the  Gospel  according  to 
Luke  were  our  only  text. 

The  disadvantage  of  this  position  is  evident.  The  life 
of  Jesus,  as  derived  from  the  Third  Gospel  alone,  would  be 
extremely  defective  and  incomplete.  This  we  understand, 
because  for  the  life  of  Jesus  the  comparison  can  actually  be 
made.  Along  with  Luke,  we  have  —  to  say  nothing  of  the 
Fourth  Gospel  —  both  Matthew  and  Mark,  who,  as  compared 
with  Luke,  are  (in  part  at  least)  original  authorities.  We 
put  our  finger  on  that  very  violent  process  by  which  Luke 
rends  anecdotes  apart  or  mixes  them  together,  the  way  in 
which  he  alters  the  colouring  of  certain  facts  to  fit  his  personal 

1  These  traits  will  appear  in  the  following  passages  :  Acts  ii.  44,  45- 
47;  iv.  33,  34-37;  v.  1-11  (story  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira),  13,  26:  comp. 
Luke  xxiv.  19,  20. 


l6  INTRODUCTION. 

view,  the  pious  legends  "which  he  has  appended  to  the  more 
authentic  tradition.  Is  it  not  clear  that  we  should  find  the 
like  defects  and  errors  in  the  "  Acts  "  if  we  could  make  the 
like  comparison?  The  earlier  chapters  would  most  likely 
appear  to  us  even  inferior  to  "Luke,"  since  they  were  prob- 
ably composed  from  fewer  and  less  universally  received 
authorities. 

Here,  indeed,  a  fundamental  difference  is  to  be  admitted. 
In  respect  of  historic  value,  we  find  "  Acts  "  divided  into  two 
portions,  one  containing  the  first  twelve  chapters  and  relat- 
ing the  more  important  events  in  the  history  of  the  primitive 
Church,  while  the  other  contains  the  sixteen  remaining 
chapters,  which  are  wholly  devoted  to  the  missions  of  Paul. 
In  the  second  portion,  again,  are  two  classes  of  narrative: 
in  one  the  narrator  gives  himself  out  as  an  eye-witness  of 
the  facts ;  in  the  other  he  only  reports  what  he  has  been  told. 
Even  in  the  latter  case  his  authority  is  unquestionably  great, 
his  information  often  coming  from  Paul's  own  conversations. 
Especially  towards  the  close,  the  narration  has  a  surprisingly 
precise  and  lifelike  air.  The  last  pages  of  "  Acts  "  are,  in 
fact,  the  only  passages  completely  historical  in  all  the  early 
Christian  history.  The  earlier  ones,  on  the  contrary,  are 
the  most  vulnerable  in  all  the  New  Testament.  It  is  espe- 
cially here  that  the  writer  yields  to  the  preconceived  opinions 
which  he  follows  in  his  Gospel,  and  here  they  are  even  more 
"misleading.  His  theory  of  the  forty  days;  his  account  of 
the  ascension  of  Jesus,  closing  that  life  of  wonders  with  a 
mysterious  disappearance  and  a  certain  theatrical  pomp ;  his 
manner  of  relating  the  descent  of  the  Spirit  and  the  inspired 
address  which  follows ;  his  way  of  understanding  the  "  gift  of 
tongues, "  so  different  from  that  of  Paul,  ^  —  in  all  these  we 
discern  the  preconceived  opinions  of  a  lower  period,  when  the 
legend  is  already  full-grown,  and,  as  it  were,  rounded  out  to 
its  complete  proportions.  Everything,  with  this  writer, 
goes  on  with  a  singular  stage  effect,  and  a  great  display  of 

^  Compare  Mark  xvi.  17;  Acts  ii.  4,  13;  x.  46;  xi.  15;  xix.  6,  with 
1  Cor.  chaps,  xii.-xiv. 


•REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  \^ 

the  marvellous.  We  must  recollect  that  he  writes  a  full 
half-century  after  the  events,  far  from  the  region  where  they 
took  place,  about  facts  which  he  has  not  seen,  which  his 
instructor  is  just  as  ignorant  of  as  he,  following  traditions 
partly  fabulous  or  at  least  transfigured.  Not  only  Luke 
belongs  to  another  generation  than  the  first  founders  of 
Christianity:  he  is  of  another  world;  he  is  a  Hellenist, 
hardly  at  all  a  Jew,  almost  a  stranger  to  Jerusalem  and  the 
inner  life  of  Judaism;  he  was  never  in  touch  with  the 
primitive  Christian  community;  he  has  known  scarce  any- 
thing of  its  later  representatives.  In  the  miracles  he  relates 
we  seem  to  find  outright  inventions  rather  than  a  transform- 
ing of  real  facts,  those  ascribed  to  Peter  and  to  Paul  making 
two  successions  of  corresponding  incidents. ^  The  leading 
characters  are  just  alike :  Peter  noway  differs  from  Paul,  or 
Paul  from  Peter.  The  discourses  put  in  the  mouth  of  one 
or  another  Christian  orator,  though  skilfully  adapted  to  the 
circumstances,  are  all  in  the  same  style,  and  belong  more  to 
the  historian  than  to  the  speaker.  They  even  contain  impos- 
sibilities, —  as  when  Gamaliel,  about  a.  d.  36,  speaks  of 
Theudas,  whose  revolt  is  expressly  said  (v.  36,  37)  to  have 
been  earlier  than  that  of  Judas  the  Gaulonite,  being  in  fact 
as  late  as  44,  while  that  of  the  Gaulonite  was  some  time 
before. 2  "Acts,"  in  short,  is  a  dogmatic  history,  shaped  to 
confirm  the  orthodox  opinion  of  the  day,  or  to  instil  the 
views  most  harmonious  with  the  writer's  piety.  I  may  add 
that  it  could  not  well  be  otherwise.  The  birth  of  a  religion 
is  known  only  through  the  accounts  given  by  its  believers. 

*  Compare  Acts  iii.  2-10  [healing  of  the  lame  man  at  the  Temple] 
•with  xvi.  8-12  [the  cripple  at  Lystra];  ix.  36-40  [raising  of  Tabitha]  with 
XX.  9-12  [revival  of  Eutychus];  v.  1-11  [story  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira] 
with  xiii.  8-12  [blindness  of  Elymas] ;  v.  15,  16  [miracles  at  Jerusalem] 
with  xix.  11,  12  [at  Ephesus];  xii.  7-11  [deliverance  of  Peter]  with  xvi. 
26-34  [Paul  at  Philippi] ;  x.  44  with  xix.  6  [gifts  of  the  Spirit  to 
gentiles]. 

2  Compare  Josephus,  Aniiq.  xx.  5:  1  with  id.  xviii.  1:  1,  and  War,  ii. 
8:1. 

2 


i8  INTRODUCTION. 

It  is  only  the  critical  inquirer,  the  "sceptic,"  who  writes 
history  for  the  sake  of  giving  the  facts  (ad  narrandum). 

These  are  not  mere  suspicions,  conjectures  of  a  too  dis- 
trustful criticism.  They  are  solid  inductions.  "Wherever  we 
have  it  in  our  power  to  check  the  narrative  of  "Acts," 
we  find  it  deceptive  and  composed  upon  a  theory.  The 
check  which  we  cannot  seek  in  the  synoptic  Gospels  we 
may  look  for  in  Paul's  epistles,  especially  in  "Galatians." 
It  is  evident  that,  where  the  "Acts"  and  the  Epistles  dis- 
agree, the  preference  must  always  be  given  to  the  latter, 
whose  text  is  absolutely  genuine,  is  the  older,  is  perfectly 
single-minded,  and  is  unaffected  by  legend.  In  history,  a 
document  is  of  the  more  weight  in  proportion  to  its  lack  of 
historic  form.  The  authority  of  all  chronicles  must  yield 
before  that  of  a  single  inscription,  medal,  charter,  or  genuine 
epistle.  In  this  view,  letters  of  a  known  writer,  or  of  a  sure 
date,  are  the  very  foundation  of  the  earliest  Christian  his- 
tory. Without  these,  it  may  be  said  that  the  very  life  of 
Jesus  would  be  assailed  and  overwhelmed  by  doubt.  Now,  in 
two  very  important  particulars,  the  epistles  throw  strong  light 
on  the  personal  motives  and  views  of  the  writer  of  "Acts," 
and  on  his  desire  to  obliterate  every  trace  of  the  divisions 
that  existed  between  Paul  and  the  apostles  at  Jerusalem.  ^ 

At  the  outset,  the  writer  of  "  Acts  "  represents  Paul,  after 
the  events  at  and  near  Damascus  (ix.  19-25 ;  xxii.  17-21), 
as  having  come  to  Jerusalem,  while  his  conversion  was  still 
almost  unknown;  as  having  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
apostles  and  lived  with  them  and  the  brethren  on  terms 
of  cordial  intimacy;  as  having  disputed  publicly  with  the 
Hellenistic  Jews;  and  as  compelled  by  a  plot  fomented  by 
them  against  him,  and  by  a  revelation  from  heaven,  to  with- 

^  Those  unable  to  follow  in  detail  the  studies  of  the  German  critics  — 
Baur,  Schneckenburger,  De  Witte,  Schwegler,  and  Zeller  —  on  the  ques- 
tions bearing  on  Acts,  and  leading  to  a.more  or  less  definite  solution,  ■will 
find  advantage  in  the  writings  of  Stap  (^^tudes  historiques),  Nicolas  (J^tudes 
critiques),  Reuss  (Hist,  de  la  the'ol.  Chretienne) ,  and  various  essays  of 
Kayser,  Scherer,  and  Ileuss,  in  the  Revue  de  Theologie  (Strasburg,  1  Ser. 
vols,  ii.,  iii. ;  2  Ser.  vols,  ii.,  iii.) 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  19 

draw  from  Jerusalem.  Now  Paul  himself  tells  us  that  the 
course  of  events  was  wholly  different.  To  prove  that  he  is 
not  indebted  to  the  Twelve,  but  to  Jesus  alone,  for  his  doc- 
trine and  mission,  he  asserts  (Gal.  i.  11-17)  that  after  his 
conversion  he  took  no  counsel  with  any  one  whatever,^  and 
did  not  go  near  Jerusalem  or  to  those  who  were  apostles 
before  him ;  that  he  went  and  preached  in  Hauran  of  his  own 
accord,  without  waiting  any  one's  commission;  that  three 
years  later,  indeed,  he  took  the  journey  to  Jerusalem  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  Cephas;  that  he  remained  with 
him  fifteen  days,  but  saw  no  other  apostle  excepting  James 
"the  Lord's  brother,"  so  that  his  face  was  unknown  to  the 
churches  of  Judsea.  Here  we  plainly  see  an  attempt  to  smooth 
away  the  asperities  of  the  rude  apostle,  to  represent  him  as 
labouring  together  with  the  Twelve,  and  acting  in  concert 
with  them  at  Jerusalem.  Jerusalem  is  made  his  capital  and 
his  point  of  departure.  His  doctrine  is  made  out  to  be  so 
exactly  identical  with  that  of  the  Twelve  that  he  can,  in 
some  sense,  take  their  place  in  the  office  of  preaching.  His 
first  apostleship  is  earned  back  to  the  synagogues  at  Damas- 
cus, and  he  is  represented  as  having  been  a  hearer  and 
disciple,  which  he  assures  us  on  oath  he  never  was.^  The 
interval  between  his  conversion  and  first  visit  to  Jerusalem 
is  shortened,  and  his  stay  in  Jerusalem  —  where  he  preaches' 
to  the  general  satisfaction  —  is  lengthened  out.  It  is  asserted 
that  he  lived  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  apostles,  though 
he  himself  assures  us  that  he  saw  only  two  of  them.  The 
brethren  at  Jerusalem  are  represented  as  watching  over  him, 
while  he  declares  that  they  did  not  so  much  as  know  his  face. 
The  same  desire  to  exhibit  Paul  as  an  assiduous  visitor 
in  Jerusalem  which  induced  the  writer  to  anticipate  and 
prolong  his   first  stay  in   this   place   after  his   conversion, 

1  •'  I  conferred  not  with  flesh  and  blood."  For  the  shade  of  meaning 
here  implied,  compare  Matt.  xvi.  17:  "flesh  and  blood  hath  not  re- 
vealed it." 

2  "  Before  God  I  lie  not,"  Gal.  1.  20.  Read  the  whole  of  the  first  and 
second  chapters. 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

seems  to  have  led  to  the  interpolating  of  one  more  missionary 
journey.  According  to  this  account,  Paul  came  to  Jerusa- 
lem with  Barnabas,  to  carry  a  charitable  gift  to  the  brethren 
during  the  famine  of  44  (xi.  30;  xii.  25).  Now  Paul  ex- 
pressly declares  in  "Galatians"  (chaps,  i.  and  ii.)  that  he 
never  once  went  to  Jerusalem  between  the  time  of  his  first 
visit,  three  years  after  his  conversion,  and  that  made  [about 
60]  to  discuss  the  question  of  circumcision,  —  thus  formally 
denying  any  such  journey  between  "  Acts  "  ix.  26  and  xv.  2. 
If,  against  all  reason,  one  should  deny  that  the  journey  spoken 
of  in  the  second  chapter  of  "  Galatians  "  is  the  same  with  that 
mentioned  in  the  fifteenth  of  "Acts,"  the  contradiction  re- 
mains equally  explicit.  "Three  years  after  my  conversion," 
says  Paul,  "  I  went  up  to  Jerusalem  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  Cephas.  Fourteen  years  later  I  went  again  to  Jerusalem." 
We  may  doubt  here  whether  the  "  fourteen  years  "  are  to  be 
reckoned  from  his  conversion,  or  from  the  journey  taken 
three  years  after  it.  Taking  the  former  supposition,  which 
is  the  more  favourable  to  the  account  in  "Acts,"  there  would 
then  be  at  least  eleven  years,  according  to  Paul,  between  his 
first  and  second  visit  to  Jerusalem.  But,  surely,  there  are 
not  eleven  years  between  the  account  in  "Acts  "  ix.  26-30  and 
the  incident  told  in  xi.  30.  Or,  if  this  should  be  maintained, 
against  all  probability,  we  should  then  run  against  another 
impossibility.  The  incident  in  "Acts  "  xi.  30  is  contempora- 
neous with  the  death  of  James,  the  son  of  Zebedee  (xii.  1), 
which  gives  us  the  only  sure  date  in  the  entire  book,  since  it 
took  place  just  before  the  death  of  Herod  Agrippa  I.,  which 
was  in  the  year  44.^  Since  Paul's  second  visit  was  at  least 
fourteen  years  after  his  conversion,  if  he  had  really  made 
it  in  44,  this  would  carry  back  the  date  of  his  conversion  to 
A.  D.  30,  which  is  absurd.^  It  is  thus  impossible  to  hold,  as 
fact,  to  the  journey  related  in  "  Acts  "  xi.  30,  xii.  25. 

1  Joseph  us,  Antiq.  xix.  8:2;  War,  ii.  12:  6. 

2  This  absurdity  is,  however,  accepted  by  Hamack,  who  makes  it  the 
point  of  departure  for  his  chronology  of  the  New  Testament  writings 
(1896).  — Ed. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  21 

These  comings  and  goings  seem  to  have  been  very  inaccu- 
rately related.  Comparing  "  Acts  "  xvii.  14-16,  xviii.  5  with 
1  Thess.  iii.  1,  2,  —  concerning  the  presence  of  Silas  and 
Timothy  with  Paul  at  Corinth,  —  we  find  another  disagree- 
ment. But,  as  this  does  not  tarn  on  any  point  of  doctrine, 
I  pass  it  by. 

As  bearing  on  the  subject  now  in  hand,  the  historical  value 
of  the  "Book  of  Acts,"  a  decisive  light  is  thrown  by  a  com- 
parison of  the  passages  in  "Acts"  xv.  and  "Galatians"  ii., 
relating  to  the  question  of  circumcision.  According  to  the 
former,  when  certain  brethren  from  JudsBa  had  come  to 
Antioch  [where  Paul  was  preaching],  and  insisted  on  the 
need  of  circumcising  pagan  converts,  a  deputation  consist- 
ing of  Paul,  Barnabas,  and  sundry  others,  was  sent  to 
Jerusalem  to  consult  the  apostles  and  elders  on  the  subject. 
Here  they  were  warmly  welcomed  by  everybody,  and  a  great 
assembly  was  held.  Scarcely  any  difference  of  -opinion, 
appears,  smothered  as  it  was  under  the  effusive  brotherly 
love  of  all  parties  and  the  joy  of  finding  themselves  in  com- 
pany. Peter  sets  forth  the  opinion  which  we  might  have 
expected  from  the  lips  of  Paul,  —  namely,  that  pagan  con- 
verts are  not  subject  to  the  Mosaic  code.  To  this  opinion 
James  makes  only  a  slight  reservation.^  Paul  does  not  speak 
at  all,  and  in  truth  has  no  need  to  speak,  since  his  own 
opinion  is  put  into  Peter's  mouth-  No  one  defends  the  view 
of  the  Jewish  brethren.  j|^  formal  decision  is)  made  in  con- 
formity with  that  of  James ;  ami  this  decision  is  forwarded  to 
/^he  churches  by  deputies  expressly  chosen  for  that  purpose. 

^ow  let  us  compare  the  account  given  by  Paul  in  "Gala- 
tians." He  represents  that  his  journey  to  Jerusalem  at  this 
time  was^  mTdpTjgJ£gn_nf_  his  own  mntimij.  gnrj  was  even 
prompted  by  a  revelation.  Coming  to  Jerusalem,  he  imparts 
his  gospel  to  those  entitled  to  such  communication ;  in  par- 
ticular, he  has  interviews  with  those  who  appear  to  be  men 

*  His  citation  of  Amos  ix.  11,  12,  quoting  the  Greek  version,  which 
varies  from  the  Hebrew,  clearly  shows  that  this  speech  is  a  fabrication  of 
the  writer. 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

of  importance.  No  criticism  whatever  is  passed  upon  him ; 
no  communication  is  made  to  him;  nothing  is  required  of 
him;  he  is  only  eounselled  to  keep  in  mind  the  poor  of 
Jerusalem.  If  Titus,  who  is  with  him,  submits  to  be  cir- 
cumcised,^ it  is  out  of  regard  for  certain  "false  brethren  who 
have  intruded."  Paul  makes  the  passing  concession,  but  in 
no  way  yields  to  them.  As  to  those  "who  seem  to  be 
pillars,"  —  Paul  always  speaks  of  these  men  with  a  shade  of 
irony,  —  they  have  taught  him  nothing  new.  Still  further, 
when -Cephas  came  afterwards  to  Antioch,  Paul  "withstood 
him  to  his  face,  because  he  was  in  the  wrong."  At  first, 
indeed,  Cephas  ate  with  all,  making  no  distinction ;  but,  on 
the  coming  of  emissaries  from  James,  he  holds  himself  aloof, 
avoiding  those  uncircumcised.  "Seeing  that  he  did  not 
walk  in  the  straight  path  of  the  gospel  truth,"  Paul  publicly 
appeals  to  him,  and  reproves  him  sharply  for  his  conduct. 

We  see  the  difference.  By  one  account  there  is  a  formal 
agreement;  by  the  other,  there  is  bitterness  ilT-suppfessed 
and  excessive  touchiness.  In  one  there  is  a  sort  of  council; 
in  the  other,  nothing  like  it.  In  one,  a  formal  decree  given 
out  by  a  recognized  authority ;  in  the  other,  difPering  opinions 
fronting  one  another,  with  no  yielding  on  either  side  except,  it 
may  be,  for  form's  sake.  It  is  needless  to  say  which  account 
is  to  be  preferred.  That  in  "  Acts  "  ^s  scarcely  probable, 
since  according  to  this  the  occasion  of  the  council  is  a  dis- 
pute, of  which  we  see  not  a  trace  as  soon  as  the  council  is 
got  together.  The  two  speakers  express  themselves  in  a 
way  quite  opposed  to  what  we  know  from  other  sources  to 
have  been  their  real  position.  The  decree  which  the  counsel 
is  stated  to  have  passed  is  certainly  pure  fiction.  If  this 
decree,  which  James  is  said  to  have  dictated,  was  really 
proclaimed,  whence  those  moods  of  the  timid  and  soft-hearted 
Peter  before  the  envoys  sent  by  Jarnes  ?  Why  does  he  keep 
in  the  dark  ?     He  and  the  Christians  of  Antioch  were  acting 

1  I  shall  show  hereafter  that  this  is  the  true  sense  of  the  passage.  In 
any  case,  a  doubt  as  to  the  fact,  whother  he  was  circumcised  or  not,  does 
not  touch  the  present  line  of  argunie.t. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  23 

in  perfect  agreement  with  the  decree  whose  terms  were  fixed 
by  James  himself.  This  affair  of  circumcision  took  place 
about  51.  A  few  years,^ later,  about  56,  the  dispute  that 
should  have  been  ended  by  this  decree  is  hotter  than  ever. 
The  Church  of  Galatia  is  troubled  by  new  emissaries  sent 
from  the  Jewish  party  at  Jerusalem.  ^  Paul  replies  to  this 
new  attack  by  his  stormy  epistle.  If  the  decree  reported  in 
the  fifteenth  chapter  of  "  Acts  "  had  any  real  existence,  Paul 
needed  only  to  refer  to  it  to  put  a  stop  to  the  debate ;  but 
all  that  he  says  assumes  that  there  was  no  such  decree.  In 
57,  writing  to  the  Corinthians,  Paul  again  ignores  the  decree 
and  violates  its  terms.  It  had  required  abstinence  from  meats 
sacrificed  to  idols;  but  Paul,  on  the  contrary,  holds  that 
such  meats  may  very  well  be  eaten  if  no  one  is  scandalised 
thereby,  while  in  case  of  scahdaT  they  should  be  avoided. ^ 
In  58,  again,  during  Paul's  last  visit  to  Jerusalem,  James  is 
more  obstinate  than  ever.^  One  of  the  characteristic  features 
of  "Acts,"  proving  that  the  writer  has  it  less  in  view  to  give 
the  historical  truth  or  even  a  coherent  story  than  to  serve  the 
edification  of  pious  readers,  is  this  very  thing,  that  the  ques- 
tion of  admitting  the  uncircumcised  is  always  being  decided 
and  never  settled.  It  turns  up  first  in  the  case  of  baptising 
the  chamberlain  of  Queen  Candace,  then  in  that  of  the  cen- 
turion Cornelius,  —  both  miraculously  prescribed ;  then  in 
the  founding  of  the  church  at  Antioch  (xi.  19-21);  then  in 
the  fictitious  council  at  Jerusalem,  —  all  which  does  not  pre- 
vent the  question  being  in  suspense  among  the  latest  events 
of  the  book  (xxi.  20,  21).  In  truth,  it  always  remained  in 
suspense.  JThe^two  parties  of  the  primitive  church  were 
never^  fused  jtogether.  The  only  settlemenF^was  that  the 
party  which  kept  the  Jewish  usages  remained  sterile  and 
went  out  in  the  dark.  Paul  was  so  far  from  being  accepted 
by  all,  that  after  his  death  a  Christian  party  —  especially  the 

^  Compare  Acts  xv.  1.  with  Gal.  i.  7;  ii.  12. 
2  1  Cor.  viii.  4,  9 ;  x.  25-29. 
«  Acts  xxi.  20-25. 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

Ebionites  —  still  anathematised  him  and  hounded  him  with 
its  calumnies.^ 

The  fundamental  question  involved  in  these  curious  inci- 
dents will  be  fully  treated  in  the  volume  of  this  series  entitled 
"Saint  Paul."  I  have  desired  to  give  here  only  a  few 
specimens  of  the  way  in  which  the  writer  of  "  Acts " 
understands  history,  —  his  system  of  conciliation  and  his 
preconceived  ideas.  Are  we  to  conclude  from  this  that  the 
earlier  chapters  of  his  work  are  devoid  of  authority,  as  some 
eminent  critics  think  ?  that  fiction  here  goes  so  far  as  to  make 
"  out  of  the  whole  cloth  "  such  characters  as  the  chamberlain 
of  Queen  Candace,  the  centurion  Cornelius,  and  even  the 
protomartyr  Stephen  and  the  pious  Tabitha?  So  I  by  no 
means  think.  It  is  likely  that  the  writer  has  not  invented  a 
single  person  of  the  story,  though  I  should  be  glad  to  abandon 
Ananias  and  Sapphira,  but  he  is  a  skilful  advocate  who 
writes  to  prove  his  point,  and  who  takes  advantage  of  things 
he  has  heard  spoken  of  to  argue  for  his  favourite  positions: 
namely,  the  lawfulness  of  the  calling  of  the  gentiles  and  the 
divine  establishment  of  the  hierarchy.  Such  a  document 
requires  to  be  used  with  extreme  care ;  but  to  reject  it  abso- 
lutely is  as  uncritical  as  it  would  be  to  follow  it  blindly. 
And  besides,  some  paragraphs  even  of  the  earliest  portion 
have  a  value  which  all  admit,  as  representing  authentic 
memoirs  culled  by  the  late  compiler.  The  substance  of  the 
twelfth  chapter,  in  particular,  is  of  genuine  value,  and  would 
seem  to  have  come  from  John  Mark. 

It  is  obvious  what  our  difficulty  would  be  if  we  had  for 
the  materials  of  our  history  only  a  book  so  legendary. 
Happily  we  have  other  sources,  which  (it  is  true)  bear  more 
directly  upon  the  topic  of  a  later  volume,  but  throw  much 
light  meanwhile  upon  this.  These  are  the  epistles  of  Saint 
Paul.  That  to  the  Galatians,  especially,  is  a  genuine  store- 
house of  information,  the  groundwork  of  all  the  chronology 
of  this  period,   the  master-key  that  unlocks  every  door,  a 

1  Seethe  Pseudo-Clementine  Homilies;  Irengeus,  Adv.  hcer.  i.  26:  2; 
Epiphanius,  Adv.  hcer.  xxx. ;  Jerome,  In  Matt.  xii. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  25 

testimony  which  must  give  confidence  even  to  the  most 
sceptical  as  to  the  reality  of  things  that  might  be  held  in 
doubt.  I  beg  the  candid  reader,  who  might  be  tempted  to 
regard  me  as  too  venturesome  or  too  credulous,  to  read  over 
again  the  first  two  chapters  of  this  remarkable  epistle.  They 
are,  without  any  doubt  whatever,  the  two  most  important 
pages  that  exist  regarding  the  early  Christian  history.  One 
incomparable  advantage,  indeed,  the  writings  of  Paul  possess 
as  touching  this  history:  namely,  that  they  are  absolutely 
genuine.  No  question  has  ever  been  raised  by  serious  criti- 
cism against  the  genuineness  of  "Galatians,"  of  "First"  and 
"Second  Corinthians,"  or  of  "Romans."  The  grounds  on 
which  the  two  epistles  to  the  Thessalonians  and  that  to  the 
Philippians  have  been  assailed  are  worthless.  The  more 
specious  though  still  indecisive  objections  raised  against 
"Colossians"  and  "Philemon,"  the  special  problem  offered 
in  "Ephesians,"  and  the  strong  reasons  for  rejecting  the 
epistles  to  Timothy  and  Titus  will  be  considered  in  the  intro- 
duction to  my  third  volume.  Those  which  I  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  use  in  this  volume  are  unquestionably  genuine ;  or, 
at  least,  inferences  which  may  be  drawn  from  the  others  are 
independent  of  any  question  whether  they  were  or  were  not 
dictated  by  Paul  himself. 

There  is  no  need  to  repeat  here  what  has  already  been  said 
in  the  Introduction  to  the  "Life  of  Jesus,"  of  the  rules  of 
criticism  followed  in  this  work.  The  first  twelve  chapters 
of  "  Acts  "  are,  in  fact,  a  document  of  the  same  class  with 
the  Synoptic  Gospels,  and  are  to  be  treated  in  the  same  way. 
Such  compositions  are  half  historic,  half  legendary,  and 
cannot  be  treated  as  if  they  were  strictly  one  or  the  other. 
Almost  everything  in  them  is  untrue  in  detail,  and  yet  one 
may  infer  from  them  inestimable  truths.  Merely  to  translate 
these  tales  is  not  to  write  history.  In  many  cases  they  are, 
in  fact,  contradicted  by  better  authorities.  Consequently,  even 
where  we  have  but  a  single  text,  we  always  have  ground  to 
fear  lest  this  might  be  disproved  if  we  had  others.  In  relat- 
ing the  ministry  of  Jesus,  "  Luke  "  is  constantly  checked  and 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

corrected  by  the  other  Synoptic  Gospels  and  by  the  Fourth. 
Is  it  not  likely,  I  ask  again,  that  if  we  had  the  means  of 
similar  comparison,  "Acts"  would  be  put  in  the  wrong  on 
many  points  as  to  which  we  have  no  other  testimony  ?  The 
case  will  be  quite  different  when  I  come  to  speak  of  Paul, 
when  we  shall  be  in  the  field  of  positive  history,  and  have  in 
hand  materials  both  original  and  at  times  autobiographical. 
When  Paul  himself  tells  us  the  story  of  some  incident  in  his 
life,  which  he  had  no  interest  to  set  in  this  or  that  particular 
light,  it  is  clear  that  our  proper  business  is  to  copy  his  own 
statement  word  for  word,  as  Tillemont  has  done.  But  when 
we  have  to  do  with  a  narrator  who  takes  his  personal  view 
for  granted,  and  writes  in  order  to  give  currency  to  particu- 
lar ideas,  —  touching  up  his  story  in  this  childish  way,  with 
outlines  vague  and  soft,  with  colours  hard  and  fixed,  such  as 
legend  always  shows, — the  critic's  duty  is  not  to  keep  to 
the  text ;  it  is  rather  to  attempt  the  discovery  of  what  truth 
may  be  in  the  story,  without  being  ever  sure  that  he  has 
found  it.  To  deny  to  the  critic  the  employment  of  such  a 
method  would  be  as  irrational  as  to  require  an  astronomer  to 
confine  himself  to  the  visible  aspect  of  the  sky.  Is  it  not, 
on  the  contrary,  the  very  business  of  astronomy  to  allow  for 
the  angle  of  sight  (parallax)  caused  by  the  observer's  posi- 
tion, and  thus  construct  the  actual  condition  from  that  which 
is  only  apparent? 

And  then,  how  pretend  to  follow  to  the  letter  documents 
which  contain  impossibilities?  The  first  twelve  chapters  of 
"  Acts  "  are  a  tissue  of  miracles.  Now  an  absolute  rule  of 
criticism  is  to  give  no  place  to  the  miraculous  in  an  historical 
recital.  This  is  not  a  rule  imposed  by  any  philosophic 
system ;  it  is  purely  a  matter  of  observation.  Facts  of  that 
class  are  not  capable  of  proof.  All  asserted  miracles  when 
brought  to  the  test  are  resolved  into  illusion  or  imposture. 
If  a  single  miracle  were  proved,  we  could  not  reject  in  a 
mass  all  those  of  ancient  historians ;  for,  granting  that  ever 
so  many  of  them  are  false,  we  might  still  admit  that  some  of 
them  may  be  true.     But  it  is  not  so.     All  miracles  that  can 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  2.7 

be  tested  vanish.  Are  we  not  right,  then,  in  asserting  that 
miracles  hundreds  of  years  away,  which  cannot  thus  be 
challenged,  are  equally  unreal  ?  In  other  words,  there  is  no 
miracle  excepting  where  it  is  believed:  the  supernatural  is 
the  creation  of  faith.  Catholicism,  which  asserts  that  the 
power  of  miracle  still  remains  within  it,  yields  to  the  influ- 
ence of  this  law.  The  miracles  it  claims  to  work  do  not 
happen  where  they  are  needed.  With  such  an  easy  way  of 
proof,  why  not  bring  them  out  into  the  daylight?  A  miracle 
at  Paris,  before  a  competent  body  of  scientists,  would  put  an 
end  to  so  many  doubts.  But,  alas!  this  never  happens. 
Never  a  miracle  in  presence  of  the  public  needing  to  be  con- 
vinced, I  mean  the  sceptics.  The  one  essential  condition  is 
the  credulity  of  the  witness.  No  such  thing  has  ever  been 
done  in  view  of  those  who  could  discuss  and  question  it. 
To  this  there  is  not  a  single  exception.  Cicero,  with  his 
usual  good  sense  and  keenness,  said  (De  div.  ii.  57),  "  How 
long  is  it  since  this  mysterious  power  disappeared?  Was  it 
not  when  men  became  less  credulous  ?  " 

"But,"  you  may  say,  "if  it  is  impossible  to  prove  that 
a  supernatural  fact  ever  happened,  it  is  equally  impossible 
to  prove  that  it  never  did.  The  scientist  who  denies  the 
supernatural  does  it  just  as  gratuitously  as  the  believer  who 
asserts  it."  Not  at  all.  The  burden  of  proof  is  with  the  one 
who  asserts.  He  to  whom  the  assertion  is  made  has  only  to 
wait  for  proof,  and  yield  to  that  if  it  is  sound.  If  Buffon 
were  told  to  make  room  in  his  "  Natural  History  "  for  sirens 
and  centaurs,  he  would  have  said,  "  Show  me  a  centaur  or 
a  siren,  and  I  will  let  them  in,  but  till  then  they  do  not  exist 
forme."  "But  prove  that  they  do  not  exist!"  "It  is  for 
you  to  prove  that  they  do."  In  matters  of  science,  the 
burden  of  proof  is  with  those  who  assert  the  fact.  Why  do 
men  no  longer  believe  in  angels  or  demons,  though  number- 
less historic  documents  speak  of  them  ?  Because  their  exist- 
ence has  never  been  shown  to  be  a  fact. 

To  uphold  the  reality  of  miracle,  appeal  is  made  to  phe- 
nomena which,  it  is  said,  could  not  have  taken  place  in  the 


28  INTRODUCTION. 

regular  course  of  nature,  —  the  creation  of  man  for  example. 
This,  it  is  claimed,  could  never  have  come  to  pass  without 
the  direct  intervention  of  the  Deity;  and  why  may  not  this 
intervention  have  taken  place  at  other  critical  moments  of 
the  universal  evolution  ?  I  do  not  urge  the  strange  philosophy 
and  the  petty  notion  of  a  Deity  implied  in  this  reasoning, 
for  history  must  have  its  method  independent  of  any  phi- 
losophy. Without  entering  in  the  least  upon  the  ground  of 
theodicy,  it  is  easy  to  show  the  defect  of  such  reasoning. 
It  is  the  same  as  to  say  that  anything  is  miraculous  which  no 
longer  comes  to  pass  in  the  present  system  of  things,  or 
which  cannot  be  explained  in  the  present  condition  of  our 
science.  But  then  the  sun  is  a  miracle,  since  science  is  far 
from  having  explained  the  sun ;  so  is  conscious  intelligence, 
or  an  act  of  conception,  since  both  are  to  us  pure  mystery; 
every  living  thing  is  a  miracle,  for  the  origin  of  life  is  a  problem 
as  to  which  we  have  at  present  hardly  any  data.  If  we  reply 
that  all  life,  all  mind,  is  of  an  order  above  nature,  we  but 
play  with  words.  We  are  quite  willing  to  understand  it 
so;  but  then  you  must  explain  what  you  mean  by  miracle. 
What  manner  of  miracle  is  that  which  happens  every  day 
and  every  minute  ?  Miracle  is  not  the  unexplained ;  it  is  a 
formal  exclusion  from  the  general  law  by  a  special  act  of 
will.  What  we  deny  is  the  miracle  as  an  exception  from  the 
common  rule ;  as  a  particular  intervention,  as  if  a  clockmaker 
should  make  a  very  fine  clock,  which  he  must  put  his  hand 
into  from  time  to  time,  to  remedy  the  lack  of  a  proper  wheel. 
That  God  is  continually  in  all  things,  especially  in  all  that 
lives,  is  precisely  what  I  think.  I  only  say  that  exceptional 
interventions  of  supernal  power  have  never  been  properly 
verified.  I  deny  the  reality  of  the  special  supernatural  act 
until  a  fact  of  that  sort  has  been  duly  proved.  To  look  for 
such  an  act  before  the  creation  of  man,  —  to  flee,  in  order  to 
shun  inquiry  into  the  miracles  of  history,  beyond  the  field  of 
history,  where  investigation  is  impossible,  —  is  to  take  refuge 
behind  a  cloud ;  it  is  to  explain  an  obscure  thing  by  some- 
thing still  more  obscure ;  it  is  to  allege  a  known  law  to  account 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  29 

for  an  unknown  fact.  Miracles  are  appealed  to  which  are 
asserted  to  have  happened  before  there  was  any  witness, 
because  none  can  be  alleged  to  which  there  is  sufficient 
witness. 

No  doubt  things  have  happened  in  the  universe,  in  remote 
periods,  which  do  not  happen  now,  at  least  on  the  same 
scale.  But  they  had  their  sufficient  cause  in  the  condition 
of  things  when  they  did  happen.  We  find  in  the  geological 
formations  many  minerals  and  gems  which  seem  no  longer 
to  be  naturally  produced.  Yet  certain  chemists  — Mitscherlich, 
Ebelmen,  Sdnarmont,  Daubrde  —  have  artificially  recomposed 
many  of  these  minerals  and  gems.  If  we  may  still  doubt 
their  power  to  produce  life  artificially,  this  is  because  we  can 
probably  never,  by  any  human  means,  bring  back  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  life  began,  if  it  did  begin.  How 
restore  a  condition  of  the  planet  which  passed  away  millions 
of  years  ago  ?  How  make  an  experiment  that  must  last  for 
centuries?  Diversity  of  environment,  centuries  of  slow 
evolution  —  these  we  forget  when  we  call  miraculous  what 
took  place  in  former  time  and  never  happens  now.  Very 
possibly,  in  some  celestial  body  there  may  be  going  on  things 
that  have  ceased  in  our  world  countless  ages  ago.  Surely, 
the  making  of  mankind  is  the  most  shocking  thing  in  the 
world  to  our  reason,  if  we  think  of  it  as  sudden,  instantaneous. 
Without  ceasing  to  be  mysterious,  it  withdraws  into  world- 
wide analogies  as  soon  as  we  see  it  as  the  outcome  of  a  slow, 
continuous  advance  lasting  through  incalculable  periods  of 
time.  We  cannot  apply  to  embryonic  life  the  laws  of  mature 
growth.  The  embryo  develops  its  organs  successively,  one 
by  one;  the  grown  man  no  longer  puts  forth  organs.  He 
creates  no  longer,  because  he  is  past  the  creative  stage,  —  as 
language  is  no  longer  invented  because  it  is  invented  already. 
But  why  follow  up  an  adversary  who  only  begs  the  question  ? 
We  demand  a  miracle  of  history  clearly  proved;  our  oppo- 
nents answer  by  saying  there  were  such  before  history 
began.  Surely,  if  we  needed  proof  that  supernatural  beliefs 
are  required  by  certain  conditions  of  mind,  we  should  find 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

it  in  this,  —  that  minds  of  clear  perception  in  everything 
else  can  rest  the  edifice  of  their  faith  on  so  hopeless  a  course 
of  reasoning. 

Others,  abandoning  miracles  of  the  physical  order,  fall 
back  on  that  miracle  of  the  moral  order  without  which,  as 
they  assert,  these  events  cannot  be  explained.  Unquestion- 
ably, the  growth  of  Christianity  is  the  grandest  fact  in  the 
religious  history  of  mankind.  Yet  it  is  not  a  miracle. 
Buddhism  and  Babism  have  had  their  martyrs,  as  numerous, 
as  exalted,  as  resigned,  as  those  of  Christianity.  The  mir- 
acles at  the  origin  of  Islamism  were  of  another  sort,  and  I 
admit  that  they  impress  me  very  little.  Still,  I  may  remark 
that  the  Moslem  doctors  argue  upon  the  birth  of  Islam,  its 
spread  as  by  a  sweep  of  flame,  its  swift  conquests,  and  the 
force  that  gives  it  everywhere  a  sway  so  absolute,  exactly  as 
the  Christian  apologists  do  upon  the  founding  of  Christian- 
ity, claiming  to  show  plainly  the  finger  of  God  in  it.  Grant, 
if  you  insist,  that  the  founding  of  Christianity  is  a  fact 
wholly  unique.  Still,  we  find  another  wholly  unique  thing 
in  Hellenism,  understanding  by  this  term  the  ideal  of  per- 
fection in  literature,  art,  and  philosophy,  realised  by  Greece. 
Greek  art  surpasses  all  other  art  as  much  as  Christianity 
surpasses  other  religions.  The  Acropolis  of  Athens,  a  col- 
lection of  masterpieces  beside  which  all  others  are  but  awk- 
ward fumbling  or  more  or  less  successful  imitation,  is  perhaps 
the  one  thing  which,  in  its  own  kind,  most  defies  compari- 
son. Hellenism,  in  other  words,  is  as  much  a  miracle  of 
beauty  as  Christianity  is  a  miracle  of  holiness.  A  thing 
unique  is  not  of  course  a  thing  miraculous.  God  exists,  in 
various  degrees,  in  all  that  is  beautiful,  good,  and  true. 
But  he  exists  in  no  one  of  his  manifestations  so  exclusively 
as  that  the  presence  of  his  spirit  in  a  religious  or  philosophical 
movement  should  be  regarded  as  an  exclusive  or  even  an 
exceptional  privilege. 

I  hope  that  the  interval  which  has  passed  since  the  publi- 
cation of  the  "  Life  of  Jesus "  may  have  brought  certain 
readers  to  meet  these  questions  in  a  cooler  temper.     Relig- 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  31 

ious  controversy  is  always  touched  with  ill-faith,  without 
either  knowing  or  intending  it.  What  it  generally  takes  in 
hand  is  not  impartial  discussion  or  anxious  search  for  truth, 
but  to  maintain  a  fixed  opinion,  or  to  make  out  the  dissenter 
to  be  either  ignorant  or  dishonest.  To  one  who  thinks  he 
holds  in  his  hand  the  interests  of  absolute  truth  nothing  will 
come  amiss,  —  calumny,  prevarication,  falsifying  of  opinions, 
misquotation  of  authorities',  declamatory  refutation  of  things 
the  opponent  never  said,  shouts  of  victory  over  errors  of 
which  he  was  never  guilty.  I  should  have  been  quite  igno- 
rant of  history  if  I  had  not  looked  for  this  beforehand.  I  am 
cool-tempered  enough  not  to  be  much  hurt  by  it,  and  have  a 
sufficiently  keen  perception  in  matters  of  faith  to  be  warmly 
touched,  at  times,  by  the  genuine  feeling  which  has  inspired 
my  assailants.  Often,  when  I  have  seen  such  innocency, 
such  piety  of  assurance,  anger  so  frankly  uttered  by  such 
good  and  tender  souls,  have  I  said  —  like  John  Huss,  when 
he  saw  an  aged  woman  toiling  to  bring  a  fagot  to  his  funeral 
pile,  —  "  Ah,  divine  simplicity !  "  (0  sancta  sim/plicitas  /)  My 
regret  has  been  only  for  certain  expressions  of  temper  which 
could  not  but  be  barren.  In  the  noble  words  of  Scripture, 
"God  was  not  in  the  whirlwind."  One  might,  indeed,  well 
be  comforted  under  so  much  uproar,  if  it  all  helped  in  the 
discovery  of  truth.  But  it  is  not  so.  Truth  is  not  attain- 
able for  a  mind  disturbed  by  passion.  It  is  held  in  reserve 
for  those  who  seek  it  without  prejudgment,  unconstrained  by 
fixed  love  or  hate,  with  absolute  mental  freedom,  and  void  of 
afterthought  as  to  the  effect  of  truth  on  human  interests. 
Religious  questions  make  only  one  class  out  of  the  vastly 
many  which  fill  the  world  and  make  the  occupation  of  the 
curious.  It  hurts  nobody  to  express  an  opinion  on  a  point  of 
theory.  Those  who  cling  to  their  belief  as  a  private  treasure 
have  a  very  easy  way  to  protect  it,  —  namely,  to  take  no 
notice  of  anything  that  is  written  at  -parlance  with  it.  The 
timid  in  faith  would  do  best  not  to  read  at  all. 

There  are  some,  of  a  practical  turn,  who  ask,  concerning 
any  new  work  of  science,  what  political  party  the  writer  aims 


32  INTRODUCTION. 

to  serve,  or  who  insist  that  a  poem  shall  teach  a  lesson  of 
morality.  Such  persons  do  not  consent  that  one  shall  write 
unless  it  be  to  preach.  The  idea  of  art  or  science,  aiming 
only  to  find  the  true  or  realise  the  beautiful,  apart  from  all 
interest  of  policy,  is  meaningless  to  them.  Between  such 
persons  and  ourselves  misunderstanding  cannot  be  avoided. 
"That  sort  of  people,"  said  a  Greek  philosopher,  "take  with 
the  left  hand  what  we  give  them  with  the  right."  A  heap 
of  letters  which  I  have  received,  dictated  (no  doubt)  by  a 
worthy  sentiment,  amount  to  this:  "But  what  did  you  want? 
What  object  would  you  gain?"  "Well,  Heaven  knows  my 
motive  was  the  same  that  one  has  in  writing  any  history.  If 
I  had  several  lives  to  dispose  of,  I  would  spend  one  in  writing 
a  history  of  Alexander,  another  in  writing  that  of  Athens,  a 
third  in  writing  that  of  the  French  Revolution,  or  else,  it 
may  be,  of  the  Franciscan  Order.  What  end  should  I  have 
in  view  in  writing  these  ?  Only  one :  to  discover  the  truth 
and  make  it  live ;  to  labour  in  making  these  great  events  of 
the  past  as  truly  known  as  possible,  and  in  setting  them  forth 
in  a  manner  worthy  of  them.  The  thought  of  disturbing  any 
man's  faith  is  thousands  of  miles  away  from  me.  Such  tasks 
should  be  performed  with  as  absolute  impartiality  as  if  one 
were  writing  for  a  deserted  planet.  Any  concession  to 
scruples  on  a  lower  level  is  to  be  recreant  to  the  true  service 
of  art  and  truth.  Who  can  fail  to  see  that  the  lack  of  all 
motive  to  influence  opinion  is  both  the  strength  and  the 
weakness  of  a  work  composed  in  such  a  spirit? 

In  short,  the  first  principle  of  the  critical  school  is  this: 
that,  in  matters  of  faith,  every  man  admits  what  he  finds  it 
needful  to  admit ;  that,  so  to  speak,  he  shapes  the  bed  of  his 
beliefs  in  proportions  to  fit  his  own  bulk  and  stature.  Why 
should  we  be  so  senseless  as  to  concern  ourselves  with  what 
depends  on  circumstances  which  nobody  can  control  ?  If  any 
one  accepts  our  principles,  it  is  because  he  has  the  suitable 
turn  of  mind  and  education  to  accept  them ;  all  our  efforts 
would  not  give  this  education  or  turn  of  mind  to  those  who 
have  them  not.     Philosophy  differs  from  faith  in  this :  that 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  33 

faith  is  supposed  to  work  of  itself,  independent  of  any  under- 
standing of  the  dogma  which  one  receives.  We  think,  on 
the  other  hand,  that  truth  is  of  value  only  when  a  man  has 
come  to  it  of  himself,  when  he  has  in  view  the  whole  order 
of  ideas  to  which  it  belongs.  We  do  not  hold  ourselves 
obliged  to  keep  silence  as  to  those  of  our  beliefs  which  do 
not  harmonise  with  those  of  some  among  our  fellow-creatures. 
We  do  not  sacrifice  anything  to  the  demands  of  the  various 
orthodoxies.  But  no  more  do  we  think  to  challenge  or  to 
attack  them.  We  simply  act  as  if  they  were  not.  For  my 
part,  the  day  that  I  could  be  convicted  of  an  attempt  to 
bring  over  to  my  way  of  thinking  a  single  disciple  who  did 
not  come  to  it  of  his  own  accord,  I  should  feel  the  keenest 
pain.  I  should  infer  that  my  mind  has  allowed  itself  to  be 
disturbed  from  its  free  and  quiet  pace,  or  that  some  heavy 
weight  has  fallen  upon  my  spirit,  since  I  am  no  longer  able 
to  content  myself  with  the  glad  contemplation  of  the 
universe. 

And  then,  who  does  not  see  that,  if  my  object  had  been  to 
make  war  on  established  faiths,  I  ought  to  proceed  in  another 
way,  —  to  attend  only  to  pointing  out  the  impossibilities  and 
contradictions  of  the  dogmas  and  texts  held  as  sacred.  This 
tiresome  task  has  been  done  a  thousand  times,  and  well 
done.  In  1856,  in  the  preface  to  "Studies  of  Religious 
History,"  I  wrote  as  follows:  "I  prolest,  once  for  all, 
against  the  false  understanding  of  my  labours  which  would 
be  given  by  taking  as  polemical  works  the  various  essays  I 
have  published  or  may  hereafter  publish  on  the  history  of 
religions.  Regarded  as  works  of  controversy,  these  essays 
would  be  very  weak,  as  I  am  the  first  to  acknowledge.  Con- 
troversy requires  a  strategy  which  I  am  quite  ignorant  of:  it 
needs  that  one  should  know  how  to  select  the  weak  point  of 
his  adversary's  position,  stick  to  that,  never  touch  on  matters 
of  doubt,  never  concede  anything ;  in  other  words,  renounce 
all  that  is  essential  to  the  scientific  spirit.  That  is  not  my 
method.  The  fundamental  question  on  which  religious 
discussion  should  turn,  the  question  of  revelation  and  the 

3 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

supernatural,  I  never  touch,  —  not  that  it  is  not  settled  in  a 
way  quite  clear  to  my  own  mind,  but  because  it  is  not  a 
question  of  strict  science;  or  rather,  because  independent 
science  assumes  it  to  be  already  closed.  Indeed,  were  I  to 
follow  any  end  whatever  of  polemics  or  proselytism,  it  would 
be  a  capital  error;  it  would  be  to  carry  over  to  the  discussion 
of  delicate  and  obscure  problems  a  question  which  would  be 
better  treated  in  the  loose  terms  of  the  ordinary  contro- 
versialist or  apologist.  Far  from  regretting  the  loss  of  an 
advantage,  I  shall  be  glad  of  it  if  this  may  convince  theo- 
logians that  my  writings  are  of  another  class  than  theirs; 
that  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  essays  of  pure  scholarship, 
exposed  to  attack  as  such,  in  which  an  attempt  is  made  at 
times  to  apply  to  the  Jewish  and  Christian  religion  the  same 
principles  of  criticism  that  apply  in  other  provinces  of  history 
and  philology.  As  to  discussions  of  pure  theology,  I  shall 
never  engage  in  them,  any  more  than  Bumouf,  Creuzer, 
Guigniaut,  and  so  many  other  critical  historians  of  ancient 
beliefs  have  thought  themselves  obliged  to  undertake  the 
refutation  or  defence  of  the  religions  they  have  dealt  with. 
The  history  of  mankind  is  to  me  a  vast  whole,  in  which  all 
the  particulars  are  irregular  and  diverse,  but  where  all  is  of 
the  same  order,  proceeds  from  the  same  causes,  and  obeys  the 
same  laws.  These  laws  I  investigate  with  no  other  intention 
than  to  discover  the  exact  shape  and  colour  of  the  fact. 
Nothing  will  induce  me  to  exchange  the  obscure  but  fruitful 
path  of  science  for  the  task  of  a  controversialist,  —  an  easy 
task,  since  it  wins  sure  favour  with  those  who  think  that  war 
must  be  met  with  war.  For  this  quarrel,  which  I  am  far 
from  denying  to  be  necessary,  but  which  suits  neither  my 
taste  nor  my  abilities,  Voltaire  is  enough.  Weak  as  he  is 
in  learning,  void  as  he  is  of  a  true  feeling  for  antiquity,  in 
the  eyes  of  those  who  have  learned  a  better  method,  Voltaire 
is  yet  twenty  times  told  victorious  over  adversaries  still  more 
devoid  of  critical  faculty  then  he  is  himself.  A  new  edition 
of  this  great  writer's  works  would  amply  meet  the  need 
which  the  present  moment  seems  to  find,  of  meeting  the 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  35 

aggressions  of  theology,  —  a  poor  thing  in  itself,  but  suited  to 
that  which  needs  to  be  resisted ;  a  belated  retort  to  a  belated 
science.  Let  us,  who  have  in  us  the  love  and  eager  desire 
of  the  truth,  do  a  better  thing.  Let  us  abandon  these  dis- 
putes to  those  who  find  pleasure  in  them.  Let  us  toil  for 
the  small  number  of  those  who  walk  on  the  highway  of 
human  thought.  I  know  that  popularity  comes  more  easily 
to  the  writers  who,  instead  of  pui-suing  the  higher  forms  of 
truth,  apply  themselves  to  contending  against  the  opinion  of 
their  day.  But,  in  just  recompense,  they  are  no  longer  of  any 
value  as  soon  as  the  error  they  fought  against  has  perished. 
Those  who  disproved  magic  and  judicial  astrology,  in  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  have  done  vast  ser- 
vice to  human  reason.  Yet  their  writings  are  in  our  day 
wholly  unknown;  their  very  victory  has  caused  them  to  be 
forgotten." 

I  shall  hold  invariably  to  this  rule,  the  only  one  suited  to 
the  dignity  of  a  man  of  letters.  I  well  know  that  inquiries 
into  religious  history  touch  on  living  problems  which  seem 
to  need  solution.  Those  unfamiliar  with  free  inquiry  do  not 
understand  the  calm  leisure  of  thought;  practical  minds  are 
impatient  with  science,  which  does  not  keep  pace  with  their 
eager  temper.  Let  us  keep  clear  of  this  idle  heat.  Let  us 
not  aim  to  found  anything  new,  but  stay  in  our  respective 
churches,  profiting  by  their  age-long  culture  and  their  tradi- 
tion of  holiness,  sharing  in  their  good  works,  and  enjoying 
the  poetry  of  their  past.  Let  us  shun  only  their  intolerance ; 
rather  let  us  pardon  that  intolerance,  since,  like  self-love, 
that  is  one  of  the  needs  of  human  nature.  To  suppose  that 
new  religious  households  are  to  be  established  in  the  future, 
or  that  among  those  which  now  exist  one  will  ever  gain 
much  upon  another,  is  to  go  against  appearances.  Catholi- 
cism will  soon  be  tasked  with  great  divisions ;  the  times  of 
Avignon  and  the  Antipopes,  of  the  Clementines  and  Urbanists, 
will  come  again,  and  the  Catholic  Church  will  have  to  repeat 
the  story  of  the  thirteenth  century;  but,  in  spite  of  its  dissen- 
sions, it  will  remain  the  Catholic  Church.     It  is  likely  that 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

in  another  hundred  years,  the  numbers  of  the  Catholics, 
Protestants,  and  Jews,  will  not  have  altered  much.  But  a 
great  change  will  be  brought  about,  or  rather  will  become 
evident  to  the  eyes  of  all.  Each  of  these  religious  groups 
will  have  two  classes  of  adherents,  —  absolute  believers,  as 
in  the  Middle  Age  and  those  who  sacrifice  the  letter,  hold- 
ing only  to  the  spirit.  The  latter  class  will  be  more  numer- 
ous in  each  communion ;  and,  as  the  spirit  brings  men  together 
as  much  as  the  letter  holds  them  apart,  those  of  the  spirit  in 
each  communion  will  come  so  near  together  that  they  will 
care  little  for  outward  unity.  Fanaticism  will  be  lost  in  the 
general  tolerance.  Dogma  will  become  a  mysterious  casket 
which  by  common  consent  will  remain  forever  closed.  If  the 
casket  is  empty,  what  matters  it?  One  religion  alone,  I 
fear,  will  resist  this  softening  away  of  dogma,  —  Islamism. 
Among  some  few  Moslems  of  the  old  school,  among  some 
men  of  distinction  at  Constantinople,  and  above  all  in 
Persia,  there  are  germs  of  a  broad  and  liberal  spirit.  If 
these  are  crushed  by  the  fanaticism  of  the  Ulemas,  Islam 
will  pass  away.  For  two  things  are  evident:  that  modern 
civilization  does  not  wish  that  old  faiths  shall  perish  utterly; 
and  that  it  will  not  submit  to  be  hampered  in  its  work 
by  outgrown  religious  institutions.  Those  must  yield  or 
perish. 

Why  should  pure  religion  meanwhile,  whose  claim  it  is  to 
be  neither  a  sect  nor  a  church  apart,  suffer  the  inconvenience 
of  a  position  of  which  it  shares  not  the  advantages  ?  Why 
should  it  plant  flag  against  flag,  knowing  as  it  does  that  sal- 
vation is  free  to  all,  depending  on  the  intrinsic  nobility  of 
each  man.  In  the  sixteenth  century,  as  we  know,  Protes- 
tantism was  forced  to  an  open  rupture.  It  proceeded  from 
a  very  positive  conviction.  Far  from  conforming  to  a  weak- 
ening of  dogma,  the  Reformation  signalled  a  new  birth  of  the 
most  rigid  Christian  faith.  The  religious  movement  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  on  the  contrary,  sets  out  with  a  spirit  the 
reverse  of  dogmatism ;  its  outcome  will  not  separate  sects  or 
churches,  but  will  effect  a  general  softening  of  rigour  in  every 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  37 

church.  Sharp  divisions  increase  the  fanaticism  of  orthodoxy 
and  challenge  reaction.  The  followers  of  Luther  and  Calvin 
found  themselves  confronted  by  a  Caraffa,  the  Ghislierr,  a 
Loyola,  and  Philip  II.  If  our  own  church  rejects  us,  let  us 
not  cry  out  against  her.  Let  us  take  to  heart  the  mildness 
of  modern  manners,  which  have  made  such  hatred  powerless. 
Let  us  find  comfort  in  thinking  of  that  church  invisible 
which  includes  the  excommunicated  saints,  the  noblest  souls 
of  every  age.  Exiles  from  the  Church  are  always  the  elect 
of  their  day.  They  anticipate  the  advance  of  time.  The 
heretics  of  to-day  are  the  orthodox  of  to-morrow.  And  then, 
what  is  man's  excommunication?  Our  heavenly  Father 
shuts  out  from  his  household  only  arid  minds  and  narrow 
hearts.  If  the  priest  should  refuse  to  us  burial  in  hallowed 
ground,  let  us  forbid  our  families  to  urge  our  claim.  It  is 
God  that  judges.  The  earth  is  a  kindly  mother,  who 
receives  her  children  with  impartial  embrace.  A  good  man's 
body,  cast  into  an  unblessed  corner,  brings  its  own  bene- 
diction. 

Doubtless  there  are  situations  where  these  principles  do 
not  easily  apply.  The  spirit  "bloweth  where  itlisteth,"  and 
the  spirit  is  liberty.  There  are  men  fast  bound,  as  it  were, 
to  absolute  faith.  I  mean  those  engaged  in  sacred  orders,  or 
invested  with  the  cure  of  souls.  Even  then,  a  noble  heart 
finds  a  way.  A  worthy  rural  priest,  we  will  suppose,  comes 
by  his  solitary  studies  and  the  purity  of  his  life  to  see  the 
impossibility  of  literal  dogma.  Shall  he  grieve  those  whom 
he  has  hitherto  consoled,  or  set  forth  before  the  unlearned 
changes  which  they  can  no  way  understand  ?  Heaven  for- 
bid! There  are  no  two  men  in  the  world  whose  duties  are 
just  alike.  The  excellent  Bishop  Colenso  did  an  honest  thing, 
such  as  the  Church  has  not  seen  since  the  beginning,  in  writ- 
ing out  his  doubts  as  soon  as  they  became  clear  to  him.  But 
the  humble  Catholic  priest,  in  a  narrow-minded  and  timid 
district,  must  hold  his  peace.  Many  a  faithful  tomb,  under 
the  shadow  of  a  rustic  church,  thus  hides  a  poetic  reserve, 
an  angelic  silence.     Shall  they  whose  duty  it  has  been  to 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

speak  vie  with  the  sanctity  of  these  secrets  known  to  God 
alone  ?  ^ 

Theory  is  not  practice.  The  ideal  must  remain  in  the 
realm  of  ideality ;  it  must  needs  dread  a  stain  from  too  close 
touch  with  rude  fact.  Ideas  which  are  good  for  those  defended 
by  their  own  nobility  from  any  moral  peril  may  be  found 
injurious  if  thrust  upon  those  who  have  any  soil  of  baseness. 
Nothing  great  can  be  accomplished  without  some  well-defined 
idea;  for  human  power  has  its  limits;  and  a  man  wholly 
without  prepossession  would  be  impotent.  Let  us  enjoy  our 
freedom  [of  thought]  as  sons  of  God,  but  let  us  have  no  hand 
in  that  weakening  of  virtue  which  would  menace  society  itself 
if  Cliristianity  should  be  undermined.  Where  should  we  be 
without  it?  Who  would  make  good  the  lack  of  those  great 
schools  of  sobriety  and  reverence,  such  as  St.  Sulpice,  or  that 
devoted  service  of  the  Daughters  of  Charity?  How  can  we 
view  without  alarm  the  poverty  of  heart  and  the  meanness  of 
motive  which  even  now  invade  the  world  ?  Our  dissent  from 
those  who  uphold  the  dogmatic  faith  is,  after  all,  a  mere 
difference  of  opinion ;  at  heart  we  are  their  allies.  We  have 
but  one  enemy,  who  is  also  theirs,  —  a  vulgar  materialism, 
and  the  baseness  of  him  who  serves  himself  alone. 

Peace,  then,  in  God's  name!  Let  the  various  classes  of 
men  live  side  by  side,  not  by  belying  their  proper  genius  for 
the  sake  of  mutual  concessions  that  would  belittle  them,  but 
by  lending  one  another  mutual  support.  Nothing  on  earth 
should  reign  to  the  exclusion  of  its  opposite ;  no  one  power 

^  Compare  Tennyson's  — 

Leave  thou  thy  sister,  when  she  prays, 
Her  early  Heaven,  her  happy  views; 
Nor  thou  with  shadow'd  hint  confuse 

A  life  that  leads  melodious  days. 


Hold  thou  the  good:  define  it  well, 

For  fear  Divine  Philosophy 

Should  push  beyond  her  mark,  and  be 
Procuress  to  the  Lords  of  Hell.  —  Ed. 


REVIEW  OF  ORIGINAL  DOCUMENTS.  39 

should  suppress  the  rest.  The  true  harmony  of  mankind 
results  from  the  free  utterance  of  the  most  discordant  notes. 
If  orthodoxy  should  succeed  in  destroying  science  we  know 
what  would  follow.  Spain  and  the  Moslem  world  are  perish- 
ing from  having  effected  that  task  too  scrupulously.  If 
Reason  should  insist  on  ruling  the  world  without  regard  to 
the  religious  needs  of  the  soul,  we  have  the  experience  of 
the  French  Revolution  to  tell  us  what  the  consequence  would 
be.  The  spirit  of  Art  carried  to  the  utmost  refinement, 
without  integrity  of  soul,  made  Italy  of  the  Renaissance  a 
land  of  cutthroats,  an  accursed  soil.  Barrenness  of  heart, 
folly,  and  mediocrity,  are  the  nemesis  which  has  overtaken 
some  Protestant  countries,  where,  under  the  pretension  of 
good  sense  and  a  Christian  spirit.  Art  has  been  suppressed 
and  Science  reduced  to  paltry  technicality.  Lucretius  and 
Saint  Theresa,  Aristophanes  and  Socrates,  Voltaire  and  Saint 
Francis,  Raphael  and  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul,  have  all  a  like 
claim  to  be.  Humanity  would  be  dwarfed  if  one  of  the 
elements  which  make  it  up  should  be  lost  to  it. 


THE  APOSTLES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ACCOUNTS   OP   THE   RESURRECTION   OF   JESUS. A.  D.  33. 

Although  Jesus  had  frequently  spoken  of  the  resur- 
rection and  the  new  life,  he  had  never  distinctly  said 
that  he  should  himself  rise  in  bodily  form  from  the 
grave.^  At  first  the  disciples  had  no  such  definite  hope. 
The  feelings  which  they  naturally  betray  assume  a  be- 
lief that  all  is  now  over.  They  bury  their  beloved 
companion  with  grief  and  tears,  —  if  not  as  an  ordinary 
person,  at  least  as  one  whose  loss  is  irreparable.^  They 
are  sad  and  downcast.  The  hope  they  have  cherished, 
that  in  him  the  deliverance  of  Israel  would  be  brought 
about,  is  now  shown  to  be  vain.  They  may  be  spoken 
of  as  men  who  have  lost  a  great  and  endeared  illusion. 
But  enthusiasm  and  love  admit  no  situation  without 
relief.     They  mock  at  impossibility,  and,  rather  than 

1  See  Mark  xvi.  11 ;  Luke  xviii.  34 ;  xxiv.  11 ;  John  xx.  9, 24-29.  The 
Synoptics  admit  that,  if  Jesus  did  speak  of  it,  his  disciples  understood 
nothing  of  it:  Mark  ix.  11,  31;  Luke  xviii.  34  (compare  Luke  xxiv.  8; 
John  ii.  21,  22.  The  contrary  view  —  found  in  Math.  xii.  40;  xvi.  4,  21 ; 
xvii.  9,  23;  xx.  19;  xxvii.  32 ;  Mark  viii.  31;  ix.  9,  10,  31;  x.  34;  Luke 
ix.  32;  xi.  29,  30;  xviii.  31-34;  xxiv.  6-8  j  and  Justin,  Trypli.  106  — 
originated  in  a  later  conviction  that  he  must  have  predicted  the  event. 

2  Mark  xvi.  10 ;  Luke  xxiv.  17,  21. 


42  THE  APOSTLES. 

despair,  they  repudiate  the  brute  fact.  Many  words 
of  the  Master  were  recalled,  chiefly  those  in  which  he 
spoke  of  his  later  coming;  and  these  might  be  ex- 
plained as  a  prediction  of  his  rising  from  the  tomb.^ 
Such  a  belief,  too,  was  so  natural  that  the  disciples' 
faith  was  enough  to  have  created  it  outright.  The 
great  prophets  Enoch  and  Elijah  had  never  tasted 
death.  A  belief  was  coming  to  prevail  that  the  patri- 
archs and  the  chief  men  under  the  ancient  Law  were 
not  really  dead ;  that  their  bodies  were  still  living  and 
breathing  in  their  sepulchres  at  Hebron.^  That  must 
come  to  pass  in  the  case  of  Jesus  which  has  come  to 
pass  in  the  case  of  all  who  have  drawn  upon  them- 
selves the  admiring  gaze  of  their  fellow-men.  The 
world,  which  has  ascribed  to  them  super-human  merit, 
cannot  endure  to  believe  that  they  have  undergone  the 
unjust,  unequal,  and  revolting  doom  of  ordinary  death. 
At  the  moment  that  Mahomet  expired,  Omar  rushed 
from  the  tent,  sword  in  hand,  and  declared  that  he 
would  smite  off  the  head  of  any  who  should  say  that 
the  Prophet  was  no  more.^  Death  is  a  thing  of  such 
unreason,  when  it  strikes  a  man  of  genius  or  of  noble 
heart,  that  the  popular  mind  does  not  conceive  the 
possibility  of  such  violation  of  the  truth  of  nature. 
The  hero  does  not  die.  Is  not  the  true  life  that  which 
still  survives  in  the  heart  of  those  who  have  loved  ? 
For  years  this  adored  Master  had  filled  the  little  world 
grouped  about  him  with  joy  and  hope.     Would  they 

^  Passages  before  cited,  especially  Luke  xvii.  24,  25;  xviii.  31-34. 

^  See  Babyl.  Talm.  Baba  Bathra,  58  a,  and  the  passage  quoted  in 
Arabic  by  Abbe  Barges  in  the  Bulletin  de  Vosuvre  des  pelerinages  en  terre 
sainte,  Feb.  1863. 

8  Ibn-IIisham,  Sirat  errasotd,  ed.  Wiistenfeld,  1012,  1013. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       43 

consent  to  let  him  moulder  in  the  tomb?  No,  he  had 
lived  too  long  in  those  who  followed  him,  for  them  not 
to  affirm  that  after  his  death  he  still  lived.-^ 

The  day  succeeding  the  burial  of  Jesus  —  Saturday, 
the  15th  of  Nisan,  —  was  filled  with  thoughts  like  these. 
All  handiwork  was  forbidden  by  the  Sabbath.  But 
rest  was  never  more  fruitful.  To  the  Christian  heart 
there  was  but  one  object,  the  entombed  person  of  the 
Master.  The  women,  especially,  lavished  upon  him  in 
thought  the  tenderest  attentions.  They  did  not,  for  a 
moment,  forget  that  gentle  friend  whom  wicked  men 
had  slain,  now  reposing  in  his  bed  perfumed  with  myrrh 
—  attended  doubtless,  by  angels  who  hid  their  faces  in 
his  winding-sheet.  He  had  said,  indeed,  that  he  should 
die,  that  his  death  would  be  the  sinner's  ransom,  that 
he  would  live  again  in  the  kingdom  of  his  Father.  Yes, 
he  will  live  again  !  God  will  not  leave  his  soul  in  hell ; 
He  will  not  suffer  His  chosen  One  to  see  corruption.^ 
What  of  the  ponderous  tombstone  that  rests  above 
him  ?  He  will  lift  it  off ;  he  will  rise  and  ascend  to 
the  right  hand  of  his  Father  whence  he  came.  We 
shall  see  him  again.  We  shall  hear  his  consoling 
voice.  Again  we  shall  have  the  joy  of  companion- 
ship with  him,  and  vainly  have  men  slain  him. 

Belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  which  under 
the  influence  of  Greek  philosophy  has  become  a  Chris- 
tian dogma,  allows  us  very  easily  to  deprive  death  of 
its  meaning,  since  the  dissolution  of  the  body  is  thus 
the  deliverance  of  the  soul,  set  free  henceforth  from  the 
burden  that  weighed  upon  its  true  life.     But  this  view, 

1  Luke  xxiv.  23;  Acts  xxv.  19;  Jos.  Antiq.  xviii.  3:3. 

2  Psalm  xvi.  10.  The  sense  of  the  Hebrew  is  slightly  different,  but 
we  have  given  the  usual  translation. 


44  THE  APOSTLES. 

making  of  man  a  compound  of  two  substances,  was  not 
intelligible  to  the  Jew.  The  kingdom  of  God,  or  the 
kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  was  to  the  Jewish  mind  a  com- 
plete transformation  of  the  world  and  an  annihilation 
of  death.*  To  admit  that  Death  could  have  the  vic- 
tory over  Jesus,  who  had  come  to  conquer  Death,  was 
the  height  of  absurdity.  His  disciples  had  once  re- 
volted at  the  very  idea  that  he  could  suffer.^  They 
had  now,  therefore,  no  other  choice  than  keen  despair 
and  an  heroic  resolve.  A  person  of  insight  might  have 
predicted  on  that  Saturday  that  Jesus  would  live  again. 
The  little  Christian  company  on  that  day  wrought  the 
true  miracle,  bringing  Jesus  back  to  life  in  its  heart  by 
its  own  intense  affection  for  him,  and  resolving  that  he 
should  not  die.  In  these  impassioned  souls  love  was 
truly  mightier  than  death.^  And,  as  impassioned  feel- 
ing is  by  its  own  nature  contagious,  kindling  like  a 
torch  a  flame  of  similar  passion,  and  thus  going  on 
indefinitely,  Jesus,  in  a  sense,  was  already  risen  from 
the  dead.  Once  let  it  appear  that  his  body  is  no  longer 
here,  and  faith  in  the  Resurrection  is  established  for 
perpetuity. 

This  last  condition  befell  under  circumstances  which, 
though  obscured  by  the  incoherence  of  tradition  and  by 
contradictory  accounts,  may  yet  be  reconstructed  with 
sufficient  probability  by  a  careful  study  of  the  accounts 
in  the  four  evangelists,  compared  with  the  celebrated 
passage  of  Paul  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  "  First  Corin- 
thians "  (verses  4-8). 

Very  early  on  Sunday  morning,  the  Galilaean  women, 

1  1  Thess.  iv.  13-18;  1  Cor.  chap,  xv.;  Rev.  chaps,  xx.-xxii. 

2  Matt.  xvi.  21-23;  Mark  viii.  31-33. 
•  Joseph'us,  Antiq.  xviii.  3:3. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       45 

who  on  Friday  evening  had  hastily  wrapped  the  body 
with  spices  and  myrrh,  returned  to  the  cave  where  it 
had  been  temporarily  left.  These  were  Mary  of  Mag- 
dala,  Mary,  wife  of  Cleopas,  Salome,  Joanna,  the  wife 
of  Chuza,  and  a  few  others.^  They  probably  came 
singly ;  for,  while  we  can  hardly  question  the  account 
in  all  the  Synoptics  that  there  were  several  at  the 
tomb,  —  though  John  (xx.  2)  seems  to  suppose  that 
Mary  was  not  quite  alone,  —  it  is  sure,  from  the  two 
most  authentic  narratives,  those  in  John  and  Mark,  that 
Mary  of  Magdala  acted  wholly  by  herself.^  Whatever 
the  circumstances,  her  share  at  this  important  moment 
was  apart  from  the  rest.  Her  we  must  follow  step  by 
step,  for  during  one  hour  of  this  day  she  may  be  said 
to  have  borne  the  entire  burden  of  the  Christian  con- 
science. Upon  her  testimony  rested  the  faith  of  the 
future. 

Call  now  to  mind  that  the  enclosure  in  which  the 
body  of  Jesus  had  been  laid  was  a  cave  newly  hollowed 
in  the  rock,  and  situated  in  a  garden  near  the  place 
of  execution,^  —  a  circumstance  which  determined  the 
choice,  since  it  was  late,  and  it  was  sought  to  avoid  the 
violation  of  the  Sabbath.*  The  first  evangelist  adds 
that  the  garden  and  tomb  belonged  to  Joseph  of  Ari- 

1  Matt,  xxviii.  1;  Mark  xvi.  1;  Lake  xxiv.  1;  John  xx.  1. 

2  John  XX.  1,  2,  11-18;  Mark  xvi.  9.  Note  that  the  closing  chapter  of 
Mark,  as  we  have  it,  is  in  two  distinct  portions  :  xvi.  1-8  and  9-20  ;  be- 
sides two  other  passages  preserved  in  the  Paris  MS.  L,  and  the  margin  of 
the  Philoxenian  version  [Syriac,  of  date  508]  :  see  N.  T.  ed.  of  Griesbach- 
Schultz,  i.  291;  and  by  Jerome,  Adv.  Pelag.  ii.  The  later  ending  (vv.  9- 
20)  is  wanting  in  MS.  B  (Vatican),  in  the  Sinaitic,  and  in  the  more 
important  Greek  MSS.  It  is,  however,  at  all  events  very  old,  and  its 
agreement  with  the  Fourth  Gospel  is  striking. 

8  Matt,  xxvii.  60 ;  Mark  xv.  46 ;  Luke  xxiii.  53. 
*  John  xix.  41,  42. 


46  THE  APOSTLES. 

mathsea.  But,  in  general,  the  additions  made  by  tins 
writer  to  the  common  tradition  are  of  little  value,  es- 
pecially as  regarding  the  account  of  the  later  period.^ 
The  same  gospel  mentions  another  detail,  which  in  the 
silence  of  the  other  accounts  is  improbable,  —  namely, 
the  sealing  of  the  sepulchre  and  the  setting  of  a  guard.^ 
Call  to  mind,  besides,  that  the  caverns  for  burial  were 
low  cells,  cut  in  a  sloping  rock,  an  upright  surface 
having  first  been  trimmed  off.  The  doorway,  usually 
close  to  the  bottom,  was  closed  by  a  very  heavy  stone, 
fitted  to  a  groove.^  These  cells  had  no  lock  closed  by 
a  key,  the  weight  of  the  stone  being  the  only  protection 
against  robbers  or  violators  of  the  tomb  ;  so  that  some 
tool,  or  the  combined  effort  of  several  persons,  was 
needed  to  remove  it.  All  the  accounts  agree  in  say- 
ing that  the  stone  was  set  to  the  entrance  on  Friday 
evening. 

Now  when  Mary  Magdalen  arrived  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing, the  stone  was  not  in  place.  The  body  was  no 
longer  there.  The  idea  of  a  resurrection  had  as  yet 
been  hardly  thought  of.  Her  mind  was  full  of  a  ten- 
der sorrow  and  the  desire  to  pay  the  last  burial  service 
to  the  body  of  her  beloved  Master ;  and  her  first  feel- 
ing was  that  of  surprise  and  pain.  Her  last  hope  was 
gone  with  the  disappearance  of  the  body,  which  her 
hand  should  never  touch  again.  And  whither  had  it 
gone  ?  Rejecting  the  thought  of  a  violated  sepulchre, 
she  felt,  it  may  be,  an  instant's  gleam  of  hope ;  and 

1  See  *'  Life  of  Jesus,"  Introd.  p.  39. 

2  The  gospel  of  the  Hebrews  may  perhaps  have  contained  a  similar 
circumstance  :  Jerome,  De  viris  illustr.  2. 

8  Vogii^,  Les  eglises  de  la  terre  sainte,  125,  126.  The  verb  "roll  away" 
(Matt,  xxviii.  2 ;  Mark  xvi.  3,  4  ;  Luke  xxiv.  2)  shows  that  this  was  the 
arrangement  with  the  sepulchre  of  Jesus. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       47 

without  a  moment  of  delay,  she  ran  to  the  house  where 
Peter  and  John  were  met,^  crying,  *•  They  have  taken 
away  the  Master's  body,  and  we  do  not  know  where 
they  have  laid  him." 

The  two  disciples  rise  in  haste  and  run  at  speed 
toward  the  spot.  John,  the  younger,  arriving  first, 
stoops  and  looks  within.  Mary  was  right;  the  tomb 
was  empty,  and  the  pieces  of  cloth  which  had  served 
for  the  burial  were  scattered  about  in  the  cave.  As 
Peter  comes  up,  the  two  go  in  together  and  look  at  the 
pieces  of  cloth,  —  no  doubt  blood-stained,  —  remarking 
in  particular  the  napkin  that  had  been  wrapped  about 
the  head,  in  a  corner  by  itself.^  They  then  return  to 
their  lodgings  in  extreme  perplexity.  If  they  did  not 
actually  speak  the  decisive  words,  "  He  is  risen  ! "  we 
may  yet  say  that  the  inference  was  irresistible,  and 
that  the  belief  which  was  the  living  germ  of  Chris- 
tianity was  already  fixed. 

After  Peter  and  John  had  left  the  garden,  Mary 
remained  near  the  sepulchre,  weeping,  her  mind  filled 
with  the  one  thought,  "Where  had  the  body  been 
laid  ? "    and   her  woman's   heart   simply   yearning   to 

1  In  all  this  account,  the  Fourth  Gospel  is  greatly  superior  to  the  others, 
and  is  our  chief  guide.  The  passage  of  Mark  (xvi.  7),  in  MS.  L  and 
the  Philoxenian  version,  reads,  "  to  those  with  Peter."  Paul  also 
(1  Cor.  XV.  5)  speaks  only  of  Peter  in  this  first  appearing.  Further 
on,  Luke  (xxiv.  24)  speaks  of  others  who  went  to  the  tomb,  referring, 
probably,  to  successive  visits.  John  may  possibly  have  been  influenced 
by  the  motive  (which  appears  elsewhere  in  his  Gospel)  of  showing  that 
he,  as  well  as  Peter,  had  a  leading  part  in  the  evangelic  history.  Per- 
haps, too,  his  repeated  assertion  that  he  was  an  eye-witness  of  the  essen- 
tial facts  of  the  Christian  faith  (John  i.  14;  xxi.  24;  1  John  i.  1-3; 
iv.  14)  may  refer  to  this  visit. 

2  John  XX.  1-10  ;  comp.  Luke  xxiv.  12,  34;  1  Cor.  xv.  5;  and  the  pas- 
sage in  Mark. 


48  THE  APOSTLES. 

clasp  again  the  beloved  form.  Suddenly,  hearing  a 
slight  sound,  she  turns  about  and  sees  a  man  standing, 
whom  she  supposes  to  be  the  gardener :  "  Oh,"  she 
cries,  "  if  you  have  taken  him,  tell  me  where  you  have 
laid  him  that  I  may  carry  him  away."  As  the  only 
reply,  she  hears  her  own  name  spoken  —  "Mary!"  — 
in  the  very  voice,  the  very  tone,  so  familiar  in  her 
memory,  and  cries,  "  Oh,  my  Master ! "  pressing  for- 
ward as  if  to  touch  him,  or  with  an  instinctive  gesture 
to  kiss  his  feet.*  The  vision  lightly  recedes,  and,  with 
the  words,  "  Touch  me  not,"  gradually  disappears.^ 
But  the  miracle  of  love  is  already  wrought.  Mary  has 
done  what  Peter  could  not  do ;  she  has  found  a  living 
form,  a  sweet  and  penetrating  voice,  by  the  very  border 
of  the  tomb.  It  is  no  longer  a  matter  of  inference  or 
of  conjecture :  Mary  has  seen  and  heard.  The  Resur- 
rection has  now  its  first  immediate  witness. 

Wild  with  love  and  joy,  she  now  returns  to  the  city, 
saying  to  the  first  of  the  disciples  whom  she  met,  "  I 
have  seen  him  ;  he  has  spoken  to  me."  (John  xx.  18.) 
Greatly  disturbed  in  her  fancy,  with  broken  and  wan- 
dering speech,^  she  was  taken  by  some  of  them  to  be 
insane ;  while  Peter  and  John  relate  what  they  have 
seen,  and  other  disciples  go  to  the  tomb  and  see  for 
themselves.*  The  fixed  conviction  of  all  this  first 
group  was  that  Jesus  was  indeed  risen  from  the  dead. 
Many  doubts  still  remained ;  but  the  strong  assurance 
of  Mary,  Peter,  and  John  became  that  of  the  rest.     It 

1  See  Matt,  xxviii.  9,  10;  comparing  John  xx.  16,  17. 

2  John  XX.  11-17;  Mark  xvi.  9,  10;  compare  the  parallel  but  less  sat- 
isfactory accounts  in  Matt,  xxviii.  1-10 ;  Luke  xxiv.  1-10. 

*  Compare  Mark  xvi.  9  ;  Luke  viii.  2. 

*  Luke  xxiv.  11,  24. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       49 

was  later  called  "Peter's  vision."^  Paul,  especially, 
says  nothing  of  what  Mary  had  seen,  alleging  that  the 
first  appearance  had  been  to  Peter.  But  this  is  inac- 
curate, since  Peter  saw  only  the  empty  tomb  and  the 
gravecloths;  while  in  Mary  alone  love  was  strong 
enough  to  go  beyond  nature,  and  behold  the  living 
form  of  the  divine  Master.  In  such  a  critical  event  it 
is  nothing  to  see  after  others  have  already  seen.  The 
first  witness  determines  all ;  the  vision  vouchsafed  to 
others  is  modelled  upon  a  type  already  existent.  The 
finer  oro-anization  has  the  srift  to  conceive  the  imao-e 
on  the  instant,  with  the  precision  of  a  draughtsman's 
design.  The  glory  of  the  Resurrection  is  accordingly 
due  to  Mary  Magdalen.  Next  after  Jesus,  hers  was 
the  most  essential  part  in  the  founding  of  Christianity. 
The  image  created  by  her  vivid  susceptibility  still  hov- 
ers before  the  world.  She,  as  chief  and  princess  among 
visionaries,  has  better  than  any  other  made  the  vision 
of  her  impassioned  soul  a  real  thing  to  the  world's  con- 
viction. That  grand  cry  from  her  woman's  heart,  "  He 
is  risen ! "  has  become  the  mainspring  of  faith  to  man- 
kind. Hence,  feeble  Reason  !  Test  not  by  cold  analysis 
this  masterpiece  of  ideality  and  love !  If  wisdom  de- 
spairs of  consolation  to  the  unhappy  race  of  man,  aban- 
doned by  destiny,  let  unreason  attempt  the  venture  ! 
Where  is  the  wise  man  who  has  bestowed  upon  the 
world  so  exalted  joy  as  this  visionary  Mary  Magdalen  ? 
Meanwhile  the  other  women  who  had  been  at  the 


1  Luke  xxiv.  34;  1  Cor.  xv.  5;  Mark  xvi.  7  (MS.  L).  The  fragment 
of  the  gospel  of  the  Hebrews  (Ignatius,  Ep.  ad  Smyrn.  3;  Jerome,  De 
viris  illiistr.  16)  seems  to  have  put  Peter's  vision  in  the  evening,  confusing 
it  with  that  of  the  assembled  apostles ;  but  Paul  expressly  distinguishes 
the  two  incidents. 

4 


so  THE  APOSTLES. 

sepulchre  carried  abroad  their  various  reports.*  They 
had  not  seen  Jesus,'^  but  they  spoke  of  a  man  clothed 
in  white  whom  they  had  perceived  in  the  cave,  who  had 
said  to  them,  "  He  is  no  longer  here ;  go  back  to  Gal- 
ilee :  he  will  go  before  you,  and  you  will  see  him 
there."  ^  Their  hallucination  may  have  arisen  from 
the  view  of  the  white  gravecloths  ;  or  they  may  really 
have  seen  nothing,  and  told  of  their  vision  only  after 
Mary  Magdalen  had  related  hers.  According  to  one  of 
the  more  authentic  texts  (Mark  xvi.  8)  they  were  for 
some  time  speechless,  their  silence  being  ascribed  to  ter- 
ror. However  this  may  be,  these  tales  continued  to  grow 
larger  every  hour,  and  came  to  be  strangely  disfigured. 
The  man  in  white  became  an  angel  of  the  Lord ;  it  was 
said  that  his  garment  was  dazzling  like  snow,  and  his 
face  like  lightning.  Others  spoke  of  two  angels,  one 
at  the  head,  the  other  at  the  foot,  of  the  place  where 
the  body  had  lain.*  By  evening,  many  persons  no 
doubt  already  believed  that  the  women  had  seen  this 
angel  come  down  from  the  sky  and  roll  back  the  stone, 
while  Jesus  burst  forth  with  a  noise.^     No  doubt  their 

1  Luke  xxiv.  22-24, 34,  from  which  passages  we  infer  that  the  rumours 
were  carried  separately, 

2  Mark  xvi.  1-8.  Matthew  (xxviii.  9, 10)  says  otherwise;  but  this  is  out 
of  keeping  with  the  general  view  of  the  Synoptics,  which  holds  that  the 
woman  saw  only  an  angel.  The  first  evangelist  seems  desirous  to  recon- 
cile this  with  the  fourth,  who  says  that  one  woman  alone  beheld  the 
vision  of  Jesus. 

8  Matt,  xxviii.  2-7 ;  Mark  xvi.  5-7 ;  Luke  xxiv.  4-7,  23.  The  appa- 
rition of  angels  is  also  found  in  the  account  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  (xx.  12, 
13),  which  misplaces  it,  applying  it  to  Mary  Magdalen,  through  unwill- 
ingness to  sacrifice  this  feature  of  the  tradition. 

*  Luke  xxiv.  4-7  ;  John  xx.  12,  13. 

5  Matt,  xxviii.  1-7.  In  the  account  of  Matthew  the  circumstances 
are  most  exaggerated.  The  earthquake  and  the  part  taken  by  the  guard 
are  probably  late  additions. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       51 

own  testimony  varied.^  Each  being  under  the  influence 
of  the  imagination  of  the  others,  as  is  always  the  case 
with  simple  folk,  they  accepted  all  the  embellishments, 
and  took  each  her  part  in  creating  the  legend  which 
grew  up  about  them  from  their  words. 

The  day  was  disturbed  and  eventful.  The  little  com- 
pany was  widely  scattered.  Some  were  already  set  off 
for  Galilee ;  others  had  hidden  themselves  in  alarm.^ 
The  melancholy  scene  of  Friday,  the  harrowing  sight 
they  had  had  before  their  eyes,  beholding  one  from  whom 
they  had  hoped  so  much  hanging  on  the  cross  while  his 
Father  came  not  to  deliver  him,  had  further  shaken 
the  faith  of  many.  In  some  directions  the  stories  told 
by  Peter  and  the  women  found  only  a  hardly  disguised 
incredulity.^  The  several  accounts  crossed  with  one 
another ;  the  women  went  here  and  there  with  strange 
and  incoherent  tales,  each  outbidding  the  others.  The 
most  contrary  opinions  prevailed.  Some  still  bewailed 
the  so  recent  tragic  event;  others  already  triumphed; 
all  were  inclined  to  accept  the  most  extraordinary  tales. 
Meanwhile  the  distrust  moved  by  the  exalted  condition 
of  Mary  Magdalen,*  the  slight  credence  given  to  the 
testimony  of  the  women,  and  the  incoherence  of  their 
accounts,  caused  great  doubt.  They  were  under  expec- 
tation of  fresh  visions  which  must  needs  come.  Their 
state    of    mind   was    thus   wholly   favourable    to   the 

1  The  six  or  seven  accounts  which  we  have  of  the  events  of  the  morn- 
ing —  two  or  three  in  Mark,  an  independent  one  from  Paul,  besides  that 
in  the  gospel  of  the  Hebrews  —  are  very  discordant  with  one  another. 

2  Matt.  xxvi.  31;  Mark  xiv.  27;  John  xvi.  32;  Justin,  Apol.  i.  50; 
Tryph.  53,  106.  Justin  implies  that  at  the  death  of  Jesus  some  of  the 
disciples  were  out-and-out  deserters. 

8  ^latt.  xxviii.  17  ;  Mark  xvi.  11;  Luke  xxiv.  11. 
*  Mark  xvi.  9 ;  Luke  viii.  2. 


52  THE  APOSTLES. 

spread  of  strange  rumours.  If  all  the  little  church  had 
been  assembled,  the  growth  of  legend  would  have  been 
impossible  :  those^  who  knew  the  secret  of  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  body  would  probably  have  protested 
against  the  error.  But  in  the  general  confusion  the 
door  was  open  to  the  most  rapid  spread  of  ill-understood 
reports. 

For  those  conditions  of  mind  which  give  rise  to 
ecstasy  and  visions  are  in  their  nature  highly  conta- 
gious.^ Visions  of  this  sort  are  quickly  caught  up  and 
repeated,  as  the  history  of  every  great  religious  move- 
ment shows.  In  a  gathering  of  persons  sharing  the 
same  beliefs,  it  is  enough  for  one  of  them  to  speak  of 
supernatural  visions  or  voices,  when  others  of  the  same 
circle  are  sure  to  see  and  hear  the  same  thing.  Among 
the  persecuted  Protestants  a  rumour  would  spread  that 
angels  had  been  heard  singing  psalms  on  the  ruins  of 
some  chapel  just  destroyed ;  and  at  once  crowds  would 
go  and  hear  the  same  psalm. ^  In  cases  of  this  kind, 
the  most  heated  fancy  is  that  which  gives  the  rule  of 
credence  and  sets  the  standard  of  the  common  tem- 
perature.    The  rapture  of   a  few   spreads  among  the 

^  See  for  example,  Calmeil,  De  lafolie  au  point  de  vue  pathologique,  etc., 
Paris,  1845,  2  vols. 

2  See  Jussieu,  Lettres  pastorales,  letters  7  (1st  year)  and  4  (3d  year)  ; 
Misson,  Le  Theatre  sacre  des  Cevennes :  London,  1707,  28,  34,  38,  102, 
103,  104,  107  ;  Memoirs  of  Court,  in  Sayous,  Hist,  de  la  litter,  fran^aise 
a  Vetranger,  xvii.  cent.  i.  303;  Bulletin  de  la  Socie'le  de  Vhistoire  du 
protestantisme  Franfais,  1862,  174. 

Stories  of  similar  apparitions  are  familiar  in  the  reports  of  the  Society 
for  Psychical  Research.  Upwards  of  seven  hundred  cases  were  submitted 
to  a  single  expert.  ("  The  Will  to  Believe,"  etc.,  by  Prof.  William  James, 
p.  311.)  I  have  myself  conversed  with  an  intelligent  and  hard-headed 
judge  of  sixty,  in  a  western  State,  who  told  me  with  much  precision  of 
apparitions  of  his  deceased  wife,  with  whom,  it  was  further  said,  he  had 
sometimes  divided  and  partaken  food.  —  Ed. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       53 

rest ;  no  one  wishes  to  be  backward,  or  to  confess  that 
he  is  less  favoured  than  the  others.  Those  who  see 
nothing  are  drawn  on,  and  believe  at  length  either  that 
they  are  less  clear-sighted,  or  took  less  note  of  what 
they  saw.  At  all  events  they  will  not  make  it  known, 
for  this  would  disturb  the  good  feeling,  grieve  the  com- 
pany, and  be  an  unpleasant  part  to  play.  When  an 
apparition  is  announced  in  such  a  gathering,  all  will 
generally  see  it,  or  at  least  assent  to  it.  We  should 
remember,  too,  what  was  the  standard  of  mental  cul- 
ture among  the  companions  of  Jesus.  The  most  ad- 
mirable goodness  of  soul  often  goes  along  with  a  weak 
faculty  of  judgment.  The  disciples  believed  in  appari- 
tions ;  ^  they  fancied  themselves  to  be  in  the  midst  of 
miracles  ;  they  had  no  share  whatever  in  the  scientific 
spirit  of  their  time.  Science,  indeed,  existed  only 
among  some  hundreds  of  men,  here  and  there,  in  the 
countries  penetrated  by  Greek  culture.  The  common 
people,  everywhere,  had  little  or  no  share  in  it.  Pales- 
tine was  in  this  regard  a  very  backward  country ;  the 
Galilseans  were  the  most  ignorant  of  Palestinians ;  and 
the  disciples  of  Jesus  might  count  among  the  simplest 
of  the  Galilgeans.  This  very  simplicity  of  theirs  had 
won  to  them  their  heavenly  calling.  In  such  a  com- 
munity were  the  most  favourable  conditions  possible  for 
the  spread  of  belief  in  marvels.  When  an  opinion  that 
Jesus  was  risen  once  spread  abroad,  numerous  visions 
could  not  fail  to  follow,  as  in  fact  they  did. 

Late  in  the  forenoon  of  this  very  Sunday,  when  the 
reports  of  the  women  had  had  time  to  circulate,  two 
disciples,  one  of  them  named  Cleopas  (or  Cleopatros)^ 
went  upon  a  short  excursion  to  a  village  called  Emmaus, 

1  Matt.  xiv.  26 ;  Mark  vi.  49  ;  Luke  xxiv.  37 ;  John  iv.  19. 


54  THE  APOSTLES. 

not  far  from  Jerusalem.^  They  were  talking  together 
of  the  events  that  had  just  happened,  and  were  full  of 
sadness.  On  the  way,  a  stranger  joined  their  company, 
and  asked  the  occasion  of  their  grief.  "  Are  you,"  said 
they,  "  the  only  stranger  in  Jerusalem,  not  to  know 
what  has  happened  there  ?  Have  you  not  heard  of  the 
prophet  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  a  man  powerful  in  deed  and 
word  before  God  and  the  people  ?  Do  you  not  know 
how  the  priests  and  rulers  caused  him  to  be  condemned 
and  crucified  ?  We  hoped  that  it  was  he  who  should 
deliver  Israel ;  and  it  is  now  the  third  day  since  all  this 
took  place.  And  then,  some  women  of  our  company 
threw  us  into  strange  perplexity  this  very  morning. 
Before  daylight  they  were  at  the  tomb ;  they  did  not 
find  the  body,  but  reported  that  they  had  seen  angels, 
who  told  them  that  he  is  still  alive.  Some  of  our  num- 
ber went  afterwards  to  the  tomb,  where  they  found  all 
as  the  women  had  said ;  but  him  they  did  not  see." 
The  stranger  was  a  pious  man,  versed  in  the  Scripture, 
who  quoted  from  Moses  and  the  prophets.  The  three 
soon  found  themselves  good  friends.  When  they  came 
to  Emmaus,  as  the  stranger  seemed  about  to  continue 
his  journey,  the  others  begged  him  to  remain  and  share 
the  evening  meal  with  them.  Daylight  was  declining, 
and  their  sorrowful  recollections  grew  more  bitter. 
This  hour  of  the  evening  repast  was  that  which  more 

^  Mark  xvi.  12,  13;  Luke  xxiv.  13-33;  but  compare  Jos.  War,  vii. 
6  :  6.  Luke  puts  it  at  sixty  furlongs  from  Jerusalem,  Josephus  at  thirty 
(sixty,  found  in  some  MSS  ,  is  a  Christian  alteration :  see  Dindorf's  ed.). 
The  most  probable  situation  is  Kulonie,  a  pretty  place  at  the  entrance  to  a 
valley,  on  the  way  to  Jerusalem.  See  note  on  p.  344  of  "  Antichrist " ;  also 
Sepp,  Jerus.  und  das  heilige  Land  (1863),  i.  56  ;  Bourquenoud,  Etudes  rel. 
hist,  et  litt.  in  PP.  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  1863,  no.  9 ;  for  the  exact  dis- 
tance, H.  Zschokke,  Das  neutest.  Emmaus  (Shaffhausen,  1865). 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       55 

than  any  other  brought  back  the  charm  of  sad  and  ten- 
der memories.  How  often,  at  this  very  hour,  had  they 
seen  the  beloved  Master,  laying  aside  the  burden  of  the 
day  in  the  cheer  of  friendly  conversation  enlivened  by 
a  sip  of  the  delicious  native  wine,  and  speaking  to  them 
of  that  "  fruit  of  the  vine  "  which  he  would  drink  with 
them  anew  in  his  Father's  kingdom.  The  gesture  with 
which  he  broke  and  distributed  the  bread,  as  the  head 
of  the  household  among  the  Jews,  was  deeply  graven 
on  their  memor}^  Forgetting  in  their  pensive  sadness 
the  presence  of  a  stranger,  they  seemed  to  see  Jesus 
himself  in  the  act  of  holding,  breaking,  and  offering  the 
bread  ;  and  they  hardly  perceived  that  their  companion, 
in  haste  to  proceed  on  his  way,  had  already  left  them. 
When  wakened  from  their  reverie,  "  Did  not  we  feel," 
said  one  to  the  other,  "  that  there  was  something 
strange  ?  Do  you  remember  how  our  hearts  burned 
within  us  by  the  way  while  he  was  speaking  with  us?" 
"  And  the  prophecies  which  he  repeated,"  returned 
the  other,  "  surely  proved  that  the  Messiah  must  suffer 
before  he  could  enter  into  his  glory.  Did  you  not  know 
him  when  he  broke  the  bread  \  "  "  Yes,  our  eyes  were 
blinded  till  then,  but  were  opened  when  he  went  away." 
The  conviction  of  the  two  disciples  was  that  they  had 
really  seen  Jesus,  and  they  hastily  returned  to  Jerusalem. 
At  this  very  time  the  main  body  of  the  disciples  were 
met  with  Peter.^  Night  was  now  fully  come.  Each 
spoke  of  his  own  impression,  and  of  the  reports  which 
he  had  heard.  The  general  belief  was  that  Jesus  was 
risen  from  the  dead.     When  the  two  disciples  came  in, 

1  Mark  xvi.  14;  Luke  xxiv.  33-35;  John  xx.  19,  20;  Gospel  of  the 
Hebrews,  in  Ignatius,  Ep.  ad  Smyrn.  3;  Jer.  De  viris  ill,  16  ;  1  Cor.  xv. 
5;  Justin,  Tryph.  106. 


56  THE  APOSTLES. 

they  were  told  at  once  of  what  was  already  called 
"  Peter's  vision  "(Luke  xxiv.  34).  They,  on  their  part, 
told. what  had  befallen  them  on  the  road,  and  how  Jesus 
had  been  known  to  them  in  the  breaking  of  bread.  The 
imagination  of  all  was  greatly  stirred.  The  doors  were 
shut  for  fear  of  the  Jews.  Eastern  cities  are  still  after 
sunset.  There  was  at  times  deep  silence  within  doors  ; 
any  slight  chance  sound  was  sure  to  be  understood  in 
the  sense  of  the  common  expectation.  Such  expecta- 
tion will  often  create  its  object.^  In  some  hush  of  still- 
ness, a  light  breath  of  air  passed  over  the  faces  of  those 
present.  In  these  critical  moments  a  current  of  air, 
the  creak  of  a  casement,  a  chance  murmur,  may  fix  the 
belief  of  a  people  for  centuries.  As  the  breath  of  air 
was  felt,  sounds  were  heard,  or  fancied.  Some  said 
that  they  had  distinguished  the  word  Shalom,  that  is, 
"  blessing  "  or  "  peace."  This  was  the  usual  salutation 
of  Jesus,  the  word  by  which  he  announced  his  presence. 
No  doubt  could  be  felt :  he  was  surely  present  in  the 
gathering.  This  was  that  dear  voice,  to  be  recognized 
by  all.^     This  fancy  was  all  the  easier  to  accept,  since 

1  On  an  island  over  against  Rotterdam,  where  the  population  consists 
of  the  austerest  Calvinists,  the  peasants  are  persuaded  that  Jesus  comes 
to  their  death-bed  to  assure  his  elect  of  their  salvation.  Many,  in  fact, 
behold  him  thus. 

2  To  conceive  the  possibility  of  such  illusions,  we  need  only  call  to 
mind  scenes  in  our  own  day,  where  a  company  of  persons  insist,  with 
perfect  good  faith,  that  they  have  heard  sounds  that  had  no  reality.  The 
listening  mood,  the  act  of  imagination,  the  disposition  to  believe,  some- 
times the  yielding  to  others'  impressions,  may  explain  such  of  these  illu- 
sions as  are  not  the  direct  effect  of  fraud.  Persons  of  strong  conviction, 
of  kindly  feeling,  reluctant  to  break  the  harmony  or  to  embarrass  the 
masters  of  the  house,  are  responsible  for  most  of  such  compliances. 
When  one  believes  in  miracle,  one  often  helps  it  out  unconsciously.  Doubt 
and  denial  are  impossible  in  such  companies :  they  would  be  an  affront 
to  the  hospitable  entertainer.     Thus  experiments  which  succeed  in  a  select 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       S7 

Jesus  himself  had  said  that  whenever  his  disciples  were 
gathered  in  his  name  he  would  be  in  the  midst  of  them. 
It  was,  then,  an  accepted  belief  that  on  the  Sunday 
evening  he  had  appeared  before  his  gathered  disciples. 
Some  even  thought  they  discerned  in  his  hands  and  feet 
the  print  of  nails,  and  on  his  side  the  scar  of  a  spear- 
wound.  A  widely  extended  tradition  held  that  on  this 
very  evening  he  breathed  upon  his  disciples  the  Holy 
Spirit.^  It  was  commonly  received  that  his  breath  had 
passed  over  the  assembly. 

Such  were  the  incidents  of  this  day,  decisive  for  the 
future  of  humanity.  The  belief  that  Jesus  was  risen 
was  irrevocably  fixed.  The  little  group,  thought  to 
have  been  blotted  out  by  the  death  of  its  leader,  was 
now  secure  of  a  mighty  future. 

A  few  doubts,  however,  still  remained.^  The  apostle 
Thomas,  who  had  not  been  present  at  the  Sunday  even- 
ing gathering,  confessed  a  shade  of  jealousy  toward 
those  who  had  seen  the  print  of  nails  and  the  scar  from 
the  spear.  It  is  said  that  one  week  later  he  was  satis- 
fied ;  ^  but  there  still  rested  on  him  a  slight  stain,  and 
a  shadow  of  mild  reproach.  With  a  fine  instinctive 
sense,  it  was  felt  that  the  ideal  may  not  be  touched 
with  hands,  or  subjected  to  experimental  tests.  "  Touch 
me  not "  is  the  watchword  of  a  great  affection.  The 
touch  leaves  nothing  to  faith.  The  e3^e  is  a  purer  a 
nobler  organ  than  the  hand :  the  eye  itself  unsullied, 
which  sullies  nothing,  would  soon  come  to  be  a  needless 

group  commonly  fail  before  an  audience  that  pays  for  admission,  and 
always  fail  before  a  scientific  committee. 

^  John  XX.  22,  23;  repeated  in  Luke  xxiv.  49. 

2  Matt,  xxviii.  17 ;  Mark  xvi.  14  ;  l^uke  xxiv.  39,  40. 

8  John  XX.  24-29;  comp.  Mark  xvi.  14;  Liike  xxiv.  39,  40;  and  the 
passage  of  Mark  preserved  by  Jerome,  Adv.  Pelagium,  ii. 


58  THE  APOSTLES. 

witness.  A  curious  scruple  here  begins  to  betray  itself. 
Any  hesitation  seems  a  lack  of  loyalty  and  love.  One 
reproaches  himself  for  being  behind  the  rest ;  he  forbids 
himself  even  the  wish  to  see.  "  Happy  are  they  who 
have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed  "  (John  xx.  29) 
becomes  the  motto  of  the  situation.  It  is  found  that 
there  is  something  more  generous  in  believing  without 
proof.  True  friends  at  heart  claim  not  to  have  had 
direct  vision:  thus  we  note  that  John,  the  assumed 
relator  of  the  above  incident,  has  no  special  vision  of 
his  own ;  ^  thus,  in  a  later  age.  Saint  Louis  refuses  to 
be  witness  of  an  eucharistic  miracle,  lest  he  deprive 
himself  of  the  merit  of  faith.  From  this  time  forth, 
in  the  matter  of  credulity,  we  find  an  amazing  emula- 
tion, each  bidding  against  the  rest.  Since  merit  con- 
sisted in  belief  without  sight,  faith  at  all  costs  —  gra- 
tuitous or  blind  faith,  faith  running  into  madness  — 
was  exalted  as  the  first  of  spiritual  gifts.  The  ground 
is  already  laid  for  the  confession,  "  I  believe  because 
it  is  absurd ; "  and  the  law  of  Christian  dogma  be- 
comes a  strange  process  of  advance,  which  will  pause 
at  no  impossibility.  A  sort  of  chivalrous  sentiment 
forbids  the  ever  looking  back.  Beliefs  dearest  to  piety, 
those  clung  to  with  the  utmost  frenzy,  are  precisely 
those  most  repugnant  to  reason  ;  and  this  because  of 
the  appealing  notion  that  the  moral  value  of  faith  in- 
creases in  proportion  to  the  difficulty  of  belief,  and  that 
to  admit  what  is  evident  to  the  mind  is  no  proof  of  love 
in  the  heart. 

These  first  days  were  thus,  as  it  were,  a  period  of 
burning  fever.     The  faithful,  yielding  to  the  common 

1  Compare  1  Cor.  xv.  5-8. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS.       59 

intoxication,  and  imposing  each  his  own  dreams  upon 
the  rest,  vied  with  one  another,  and  pushed  one  another 
on  to  moods  of  the  highest  exaltation.  Visions  were 
multiplied  without  limit.  Evening  assemblies  were  the 
commonest  occasions  for  their  occurrence.-^  When  the 
doors  were  shut,  when  all  were  possessed  by  their  fixed 
idea,  the  first  who  thought  he  heard,  softly  spoken,  the 
word  Shalom,  "  blessing  "  or  "  peace,"  would  give  the 
signal.  All  listened,  and  presently  all  heard  the  same 
sound.  Then  it  was  a  great  joy  to  these  confiding  souls 
to  know  that  their  Master  was  in  the  midst  of  them. 
Each  tasted  the  sweetness  of  this  thought,  and  believed 
himself  favoured  with  a  private  interview.  Other  vis- 
ions took  form  upon  another  pattern,  resembling  those 
of  the  wayfarers  toward  Emmaus.  At  the  hour  of  re- 
past, they  would  see  Jesus  appear,  take  the  bread,  bless 
it,  break  it,  and  offer  it  to  the  one  favoured  to  behold  him.^ 
Within  a  few  days  a  complete  cycle  of  accounts,  differ- 
ing widely  in  detail  but  inspired  by  the  same  spirit  of 
devoted  love  and  faith,  took  form  and  currency.  It  is 
a  most  serious  error  to  suppose  that  legend  needs  much 
time  for  its  development.  It  may  even  spring  forth, 
full-grown,  in  a  single  day.  On  Sunday  evening,  — 
the  fifteenth  of  Nisam,  the  fifth  of  April,  —  the  resur- 
rection of  Jesus  was  held  as  an  established  fact.  One 
week  later,  the  character  of  the  life  beyond  the  grave, 
in  which  he  was  conceived  to  have  his  being,  was  defined 
in  all  its  essential  features. 

1  John  XX.  26.  The  passage  xxi.  14  assumes,  indeed,  that  there  were 
at  Jerusalem  only  two  apparitions  before  the  assembled  disciples.  But 
the  passages  xx.  30  and  xxi.  25  allow  more  latitude  of  opinion.  Comp. 
Acts  i.  3. 

^  Luke  xxiv.  41-43 ;  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews  (Jer,  De  vir.  ill.  2) ;  closing 
passage  of  Mark,  in  Jer.  Adv.  Pel.  2. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    EETKEAT   IN   GALILEE.  —  A.  D.  33. 

The  livelist  desire  of  tliose  who  have  lost  a  dear  friend 
is  to  revisit  the  spots  made  sacred  by  his  memory.  It 
was  this  motive,  doubtless,  that  led  the  disciples  to 
return  to  Galilee  a  few  days  after  the  events  now 
narrated.  It  is  probable  that  many  had  taken  their 
way  toward  the  northern  districts  as  soon  as  Jesus 
was  arrested,  or  immediately  upon  his  death.  Along 
with  the  announcement  of  his  resurrection  had  come 
a  rumour  that  he  would  be  seen  again  in  Galilee. 
Some  of  the  'women  who  had  been  at  the  sepulchre 
reported  that  the  angel  had  given  them  tidings  that 
Jesus  had  gone  thither  before  them ;  others  said  that 
he  had  himself  bidden  them  to  follow  him.^  At  times 
they  seemed  to  recall  that  he  had  said  the  same  during 
his  lifetime.^  However  this  may  be,  within  a  few  days, 
perhaps  after  the  Passover  season  was  finished,  the  dis- 
ciples fully  believed  they  had  a  command  to  return  to 
their  native  region,  and  did  in  fact  go  thither.^  It  may 
be  that  the  visions  at  Jerusalem  became  less  frequent. 

^  Matt,  xxviii.  7,  10;  Mark  xvi.  7. 

2  Matt.  xxvi.  32  ;  Mark  xiv.  28. 

8  Matt,  xxviii.  16;  John  xxi. ;  Luke  xxiv.  49,  50,  52;  Actsl.  8,  4. 
Luke's  account  here  plainly  contradicts  Mark  (xvi.  1-8)  and  Matthew.  The 
later  verses  of  Mark  (9-20),  with  those  before  cited,  not  in  the  common 
text,  seem  to  be  fitted  to  Luke's  account.  But  this  has  no  weight  against 
the  general  agreement  with  the  Fourth  Gospel,  and  with  Paul  (1  Cor.  xv. 
5-8)  on  the  point. 


THE  RETREAT  IN  GALILEE.  6l 

The  disciples  were  urged  by  a  longing  for  their  old 
home.  Those  short-lived  apparitions  were  not  enough 
to  fill  the  great  void  caused  by  his  absence.  They  sadly 
bethought  them  of  that  broad  lake  and  those  sunny 
hills  where  they  had  tasted  the  joy  of  the  divine  king- 
dom. The  women,  especially,  longed  to  return  to  the 
scene  of  those  pure  delights,  and  we  may  note  that  the 
signal  for  departure  came  from  them.^  The  hated  city 
oppressed  their  spirit,  they  were  eager  to  see  once  more 
the  land  where  the  loved  Master  had  been  their  owm, 
and  were  sure  in  advance  that  they  should  meet  him 
there. 

Most  of  the  disciples,  accordingly,  went  back  filled 
with  joy  and  hope,  accompanying,  perhaps,  the  caravan 
of  returning  pilgrims  of  the  Passover.  Their  hope  was 
not  simply  to  find  in  Galilee  a  renewal  of  those  passing 
visions,  but  Jesus  himself,  abiding  with  them  as  of  old. 
This  great  persuasion  filled  all  their  thoughts.  Would 
he  restore  the  sovereignty  of  Israel,  found  once  for  all 
the  kingdom  of  God,  and  (as  the  saying  was)  "  reveal 
his  justice  "  ?^  Anything  was  possible.  In  fancy  they 
already  saw  again  those  smiling  landscapes  where  they 
had  dwelt  with  him.  He  had  appointed  a  meeting 
with  them  —  as  many  thought  ^  —  upon  a  mountain,  the 
same,  no  doubt,  to  which  their  tenderest  memories 
clung.  Never  was  there  a  more  joyous  journey.  All 
their  dreams  of  bliss  were  now  to  be  fulfilled  :  they 
should  behold  their  Lord  once  more  ! 

And  in  fact  they  did  behold  him.  Their  visions  of 
peace  had  scarce  come  back  to  them,  when  they  felt 

1  Matt,  xxviii.  7,  16 ;  Mark  xvi.  7. 

2  See  the  verses  of  Mark  (just  alluded  to)  in  Jerome,  Adv.  Pel.  2 
*  Matt,  xxviii.  16. 


63  THE  APOSTLES. 

themselves  in  the  full  tide  of  evangelic  life.  It  was 
near  the  end  of  April,  when  the  earth  is  strewn  with 
the  crimson  blooms  of  the  anemone,  —  probably  those 
**  lilies  of  the  field,"  whose  array  Jesus  had  set  above 
the  glory  of  Solomon.  At  every  step  they  would  recall 
his  words,  associated  as  they  were  with  the  incidents  of 
the  way  :  "  See  !  this  is  the  tree,  the  flower,  the  sowing 
of  seed,  from  which  he  took  his  parable  ;  the  hillside 
where  his  most  moving  discourse  was  spoken ;  the  fish- 
ing-boat from  which  he  taught."  It  was  like  a  fair 
dream  begun  again,  a  vision  that  had  vanished,  now 
come  back.  The  enchantment  had  taken  new  life. 
That  sweet  Galilaean  "  kingdom  of  God "  resumed  its 
course.  This  bright  air,  these  mornings  by  the  lake- 
side or  on  the  hills,  these  nights  spent  on  the  wave  in 
watching  their  nets,  were  once  more  filled  with  visions 
of  glory.  Again  they  saw  him  wherever  they  had  once 
lived  with  him.  Doubtless  it  was  not  always  an  un- 
troubled joy.  At  times  the  lake  must  seem  to  them 
very  lonely.  But  a  great  love  is  content  with  little. 
If,  even  as  we  are,  we  could  once  a  year,  at  odd  mo- 
ments, see  the  loved  ones  whom  we  have  lost  long 
enough  to  exchange  a  few  words  of  greeting,  death 
would  be  no  longer  death! 

Such  was  the  condition  of  thought  in  that  faithful 
company,  during  this  short  interval  while  the  new  faith 
returned  to  its  birthplace,  as  it  were,  to  bid  it  a  last 
farewell.  The  leaders  —  Peter,  Thomas,  Nathanael,  and 
the  sons  of  Zebedee,  James  and  John  —  met  again  at 
the  lakeside,  and  lived  together  for  a  time  their  old 
life  of  fishermen,  at  Bethsaida  or  Capernaum,  the  Gali- 
laean  women,  we  may  suppose,  among  them.  These  had 
been  more  urgent  than  any  in  pressing  the  return  to 


THE  RETREAT  IN  GALILEE.  63 

Galilee,  —  the  craving  of  their  hearts,  —  and  this  was 
their  last  act  in  the  founding  of  Christianity.  From 
this  time  forth  they  appear  no  more  upon  the  scene. 
Faithful  to  their  love,  they  would  not  quit  again  the 
region  where  the  great  blessing  of  their  life  had  been 
enjoyed.^  They  were  soon  forgotten  ;  and  as  Galilaean 
Christianity  has  left  no  history,  their  memory  was 
quite  lost  in  some  lines  of  tradition.  Those  piteous  de- 
moniacs and  converted  sinners,  —  those  women  among; 
the  real  founders  of  Christianity,  Mary  Magdalen, 
Mary,  wife  of  Cleopas,  Joanna,  and  Susanna,  —  have 
shared  the  destiny  of  neglected  saints.  Paul  (1  Cor.  xv. 
5-7)  knows  not  of  them.  The  very  faith  they  had 
created  seems  to  have  remanded  them  to  the  shadow. 
We  must  come  down  to  the  Middle  Age  before  the  due 
claim  is  rendered  them,  when  one  of  them  at  least,  the 
Magdalene,  takes  her  lofty  rank  in  the  Christian  calen- 
dar of  saints. 

Visions  appear  to  have  been  quite  frequent  on  the 
lake  shore.  Why  should  not  the  disciples  see  their 
Lord  again  where  they  had  once  been,  as  it  were,  in 
direct  touch  with  Deity?  The  commonest  circum- 
stance might  bring  him  back.  Once  they  had  rowed 
all  night  and  caught  nothing;  of  a  sudden  their  net 
was  filled  with  fish ;  this  was  surely  a  miracle.  Some 
one,  they  thought,  had  said,  "  Cast  your  net  to  the 
right."  Peter  and  John  looked  at  each  other :  "  This 
is  the  Lord,"  says  John.    Peter,  who  was  without  his 

1  In  Acts  i.  14,  the  women,  it  is  true,  are  found  at  Jerusalem  at  the 
time  of  the  ascension ;  but  this  is  in  keeping  with  the  general  view  of  the 
writer  (Luke  xxiv.  49 ;  Acts  i.  1-4),  who  knows  nothing  of  a  return  to 
Galilee  after  the  resurrection,  —  a  view  opposed  to  that  of  Matthew  and 
John.  Hence  he  places  the  scene  of  the  ascension  at  Bethany,  contrary 
to  all  the  other  traditions. 


64  THE  APOSTLES. 

garments,  clad  himself  hastily,  and  threw  himself 
into  the  water  to  meet  the  unseen  prompteur.^  At 
other  times  Jusus  would  come  to  partake  of  their 
simple  meal.  One  day,  as  they  came  in  from  fishing, 
they  were  surprised  to  find  a  fire  of  coals  ready  kindled, 
with  fish  upon  it  and  bread  at  hand.  A  quick  memory 
of  the  pleasant  repasts  of  old  flashed  upon  their  mind. 
Bread  and  fish  were  the  essential  aliment,  which  had 
often  been  offered  them  by  Jesus.  When  the  meal  was 
over  they  were  convinced  that  he  had  been  seated  at 
their  side,  and  had  handed  them  these  viands,  to  them 
already  eucharistic  and  sacred.^ 

Peter  and  John  were  especially  favoured  by  these 
interviews  with  the  holy  apparition.  Peter,  one  day  — 
perhaps  in  a  dream  ;  but  was  not  all  their  life  by  the 
lakeside  a  continual  dream  ?  —  fancied  he  heard  Jesus 
say  to  him,  "  Lovest  thou  me  ? "  the  question  being 
thrice  repeated.  Filled  as  he  was  with  a  remorseful  and 
tender  emotion,  his  reply  was,  "  Yes,  Lord,  thou  know- 
est  that  I  love  thee ; "  and  each  time  the  vision  said, 
"  Feed  my  sheep."  ^  At  another  time  Peter  imparted 
to  John  a  singular  dream :  he  was  walking  with  the 

^  John,  chap.  xxi.  This  passage  seems  to  be  a  postscript  to  the 
finished  Gospel,  but  from  the  same  hand. 

2  John  xxi.  9-4^ ;  comp.  Luke  xxiv.  41-43.  John  unites  the  two  ac- 
counts in  one,  which  may  seem  slightly  artificial  on  lookhig  at  verses  14, 
15.  Hallucinations  come  singly,  and  not  till  later  are  grouped  in  con- 
nected stories.  We  find  an  example  in  the  same  writer  of  thus  joining 
into  one  group  incidents  of  months  or  weeks  apart,  by  comparing  Luke 
xxiv.  50-53  with  Acts  i.  3,  9.  In  the  one,  Jesus  ascends  to  heaven  on 
the  day  of  the  resurrection  ;  in  the  other,  after  an  interval  of  forty  days. 
Taking  Mark  xvi.  9-20  strictly,  he  ascended  on  the  evening  following  the 
resurrection.  The  example  of  Luke  shows  with  how  little  care  the  ac- 
counts were  pieced  together. 

^  John  xxi.  15-19. 


THE  RETREAT  IN  GALILEE.  65 

Master,  he  said,  John  following  a  little  behind,  when 
Jesus  spoke  to  him,  very  obscurely,  of  a  doom  of  prison 
or  violent  death,  each  time  adding,  "  Follow  me ; "  upon 
which,  Peter,  pointing  to  John  who  followed,  asked, 
"  And  what  shall  it  be  with  him  ?  "  '^  If,"  Jesus  an- 
swered, "  I  will  that  he  remain  till  I  come,  what  is 
that  to  thee?  Follow  me."  After  Peter's  crucifixion 
John  seems  to  have  recalled  this  dream,  finding  in  it 
a  prediction  of  his  friend's  manner  of  death,  and  re- 
lated it  to  his  disciples,  who  accepted  it  as  an  assur- 
ance that  their  master  would  not  die  until  Jesus  should 
finally  come. 

These  great  melancholy  dreams,  these  interviews 
continually  broken  and  renewed  with  the  risen  Master, 
seem  to  have  occupied  days  and  months.  Sympathy 
was  freshly  roused  in  Galilee  for  the  prophet  whom 
they  of  Jerusalem  had  put  to  death.  More  than  five 
hundred  persons  were  already  gathered  about  the  mem- 
ory of  Jesus  (1  Cor.  xv.  5).  In  the  absence  of  their 
Master,  they  yielded  to  the  authority  of  those  who 
most  nearly  represented  him,  chiefly  Peter.  One  day 
when  the  Galilaeans  of  the  brotherhood,  following  their 
leaders,  had  reached  one  of  the  heights  to  which  Jesus 
had  often  led  them,  they  believed  that  they  saw  him 
again.  The  air  at  these  elevations,  is  often  filled  with 
strange  glimmerings ;  and  the  same  illusion  which  once 
—  in  the  scene  of  the  "  transfiguration  " —  had  caught 
the  gaze  of  the  nearer  disciples,  again  took  place.  The 
gathered  crowd  thought  they  saw  the  godlike  form 
traced  in  the  sky ;  all  fell  upon  their  faces  and  wor- 
shipped.-^    The  feeling  impressed  by  these  bright  moun- 

1  Matt,  xxviii.  16-20;  1  Cor.  xv.  6;  comp.  Mark  xvi.  15-20  ;  Luke 
xxiv.  44-49. 

6 


66  THE  APOSTLES. 

tain  landscapes  is  that  of  the  vastness  of  the  world, 
with  the  desire  to  overcome  it.  From  one  of  the  sur- 
rounding peaks,  it  was  said,  Satan  had  shown  to  Jesus 
"  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  and  the  glory  thereof," 
promising  to  give  him  all  if  he  would  worship  him  the 
Tempter.  At  this  time,  Jesus  from  these  sacred  heights 
pointed  out  the  same  splendours  to  his  disciples,  bidding 
them  "go  forth  into  all  the  world  and  proclaim  the 
gospel  to  every  creature."  And  they  came  down,  fully 
persuaded  that  the  Son  of  God  had  given  them  that 
command,  and  had  promised  to  be  with  them  till  the 
end  of  time.  Returning  from  these  scenes,  they  were 
filled  with  a  mysterious  glow,  a  holy  flame,  regarding 
one  another  as  envoys  to  the  world,  capable  of  working 
every  wonder.  Paul  himself  saw  many  of  those  pres- 
ent at  this  extraordinary  scene ;  and,  at  the  end  of  five 
and  twenty  years,  the  impression  was  still  as  living  and 
strong  as  on  the  first  day  (1  Cor.  xv.  6). 

Almost  a  year  passed  away  in  this  life  suspended 
between   heaven  and   earth.^     Its  charm,   instead   of 

^  John  sets  no  limit  to  this  later  phase  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  appearing 
to  puppose  it  of  long  continuance.  According  to  Matthew,  it  seems  to 
have  been  only  enough  for  the  journey  to  Galilee  and  the  gathering  at  the 
appointed  mountain.  The  unfinished  account  in  Mark  (xvi.  1-8)  appears 
to  take  the  same  view  with  Matthew.  Mark's  second  ending  (xvi.  9-20) 
with  that  before  cited  from  Jerome,  and  that  of  Luke,  appear  to  limit 
this  period  to  a  single  day.  Paul  (1  Cor.  xv.  5-8),  in  agreement  with 
John,  would  extend  it  over  a  term  of  years,  his  own  vision  of  Jesus,  at  the 
least,  five  or  six  years  after  these  events,  being  spoken  of  as  the  last  of 
the  series.  The  same  thing  may  be  inferred  from  the  words  "  five  hun- 
dred brethren ;  "  for  the  gathering  of  disciples  directly  after  the  death  of 
Jesus  (Acts  i.  15)  was  by  no  means  large  enough  to  furnish  forth  such  a 
number.  Several  Gnostic  sects,  especially  the  Valentinian  and  Sethian, 
reckoned  the  period  of  apparitions  at  eighteen  months,  even  founding 
mystical  theories  upon  this  number  (Iran.  Adv.  hcrr.  i.  3 :  2  ;  30 :  14).  Acts 
alone  fixes  the  limit  at  forty  days  (i.  3);  but  this  is  weak  authority, 


THE  RETREAT  IN  GALILEE.  67 

weakening,  grew  ever  stronger.  What  is  really  grand 
and  holy  continuall}^  gains  in  strength  and  purity.  Our 
feeling  towards  the  loved  and  lost  is  far  more  fruitful 
in  its  influence  after  the  lapse  of  years  than  at  first ; 
and,  the  more  remote  from  the  event,  so  much  the  more 
constraining.  The  grief  which  at  first  mingled  in  and 
clouded  the  memory  is  changed  into  a  pious  serenity. 
The  image  of  the  departed  is  transfigured  and  ideal- 
ised; it  becomes  a  new  soul  in  our  life,  a  mainspring 
of  action,  a  fountain  of  gladness,  an  oracle  of  wise 
counsel,  a  consolation  for  hours  of  gloom.  There  can 
be  no  apotheosis  till  after  death.  So  beloved  in  life, 
Jesus  was  far  dearer  after  his  parting  breath  ;  or  rather, 
this  parting  breath  became  the  beginning  of  his  true 
life  in  the  heart  of  his  Church.  He  thus  came  to  be 
the  intimate  friend,  the  confidant,  the  companion  by  the 
way,  who  continues  with  us  at  every  turning,  is  our 
fellow-guest  at  the  board,  and  makes  himself  known  — 
as  at  Emmaus — when  he  takes  leave  of  us.  The  entire 
void  of  any  scientific  scruple  in  the  mind  of  these  new 
believers  suffered  no  question  to  rise  as  to  the  nature  of 
his  being.  He  was  figured  to  them  as  incapable  of  hurt, 
clad  in  aerial  form,  passing  through  closed  doors,  now 
seen,  now  unseen,  but  ever  living.  Sometimes  his  body 
was  conceived  as  purely  immaterial,  a  mere  shadow  or 
apparition  (John  xx.  19,  26) ;  sometimes  as  fully  ma- 

especially  as  being  part  of  an  erroneous  view  (Luke  xxiv.  49,  50,  52; 
Acts  i.  4,  12)  making  this  entire  period  to  be  passed  at  Jerusalem.  The 
number  "  forty  "  is  symbolic  —  as  shown  by  the  40  years'  wandering,  the 
40  days  of  Moses  in  the  Mount,  the  40  days'  fast  of  Elijah  and  of  Jesus, 
etc.  As  to  the  form  of  narrative  in  Mark  xvi.  9-20,  and  in  Luke,  show- 
ing the  limit  of  a  single  day,  see  the  previous  note  (p.  64).  The  authority 
of  Paul,  the  earliest  and  best  of  all,  seems  decisively  to  confirm  that  of 
the  fourth  evangelist. 


68  THE  APOSTLES. 

terial  with  flesh  and  bones  (Luke  xxiv.  39),  and  was 
bidden  by  a  childlike  scruple  (as  if  hallucination  itself 
should  guard  against  self-deception)  to  partake  of  food 
and  drink,  or  allow  itself  to  be  felt  and  handled.^  All 
thoughts  concerning  it  were  vague  and  shifting  to  the 
last  degree. 

Thus  far  I  have  hardly  thought  of  a  question  idle  in 
itself  and  impossible  to  answer.  During  all  this  scene  of 
the  true  resurrection  of  Jesus,  —  that  is,  in  the  heart  of 
those  who  loved  him,  while  their  conviction  remained 
unshaken  and  the  faith  of  after  ages  was  matured, — 
where  did  the  body  lie  mouldering  in  decay  which  on 
the  Friday  night  had  been  laid  in  the  sepulchre  ?  This 
will  forever  remain  unknown,  for  Christian  tradition, 
naturally,  has  nothing  to  say  upon  the  subject.  "  The 
flesh  profiteth  nothing  ;  it  is  the  spirit  that  giveth  life  " 
(John  vi.  64).  The  resurrection  was  the  triumph  of 
idea  over  fact.  Once  the  idea  has  become  immortal,  of 
what  account  is  the  bodily  form  that  held  it  ? 

About  the  year  80  or  85,  when  the  present  text  of 
the  first  evangelist  received  its  last  additions,^  the  Jews 
already  had  a  fixed  opinion  upon  this  matter.^  Accord- 
ing to  their  account,  the  disciples  had  come  at  night 
and  stolen  away  the  body.  The  Christian  conscience 
took  alarm  at  this  report,  and,  to  cut  it  short,  invented 
the  circumstance  of  the  armed  guards  and  the  sealed 
sepulchre.*  As  this  account  is  found  only  in  the  First 
Gospel,  where  it  follows  incidents  of  little  credibility 

1  Matt,  xxviii.  9 ;  Luke  xxiv.  36-43;  John  xx.  27-29 ;  xxi.  4-8  ;  Gos- 
pel of  Hebrews :  Ignat.  Smyrn.,  3;  Jer.  De  vir.  ill.  16. 

2  See  the  fifth  volume  of  this  series,  "  The  Gospels." 
«  Matt,  xxviii.  11-15 ;  Justin,  Tryph.  17,  108. 

*  Matt,  xxvii.  62-66 ;  xxviii.  4,  11-15. 


THE  RETREAT  IN  GALILEE.  69 

(ver.  2-7),  it  is  by  no  means  to  be  admitted.  But  the 
Jewish  explanation,  though  it  cannot  be  disproved,  does 
not  cover  the  whole  case.  It  is  hardly  to  be  supposed 
that  those  who  so  firmly  believed  the  resurrection  were 
the  same  that  stole  the  body.  Feeble  as  their  faculty 
of  reflection  may  have  been,  so  strange  an  illusion  is 
scarcely  credible  of  them.  The  little  church,  we  must 
remember,  was  at  this  time  widely  scattered.  There 
was  no  common  understanding,  no  recognised  centre, 
no  regular  way  of  communication.  Beliefs  sprang  up 
independently,  and  gathered  into  system  as  they  could. 
Such  contradictions  as  we  find  regarding  the  incidents 
of  the  Sunday  morning  show  that  rumours  spread  by 
divers  channels,  with  no  thought  of  consistency.  Very 
possibly,  the  body  may  have  been  taken  away  by  some 
of  the  disciples  and  conveyed  to  Galilee/  while  the 
others,  remaining  behind  at  Jerusalem,  knew  nothing 
of  it,  —  those  who  had  borne  the  body  to  Galilee  being 
equally  ignorant  of  what  was  going  on  meanwhile  at 
Jerusalem,  so  that  the  news  of  a  belief  in  the  resurrec- 
tion came  to  them  afterwards  as  a  surprise.  They 
would  then  have  put  in  no  protest ;  or,  if  they  had, 
it  would  have  made  no  difference.  In  a  question  of 
miracle,  after  correction  is  of  no  account,  as  we  see  with 
the  miracles  of  Salette  and  Lourdes.^     Difficulty  of  fact 

1  See  a  vague  hint  to  this  effect  in  Matt.  xxvi.  32  ;  xxviii.  7, 10 ;  Mark 
xiv.  28  ;  xvi.  7. 

2  One  of  the  commonest  ways  of  the  growth  of  miraculous  tales  is 
this.  A  holy  person  is  reputed  to  be  a  healer  of  disease.  A  sick  person 
is  brought,  and  is  relieved  by  some  sudden  flow  of  emotional  excitement ; 
and  within  a  day  the  story  of  a  miracle  will  have  spread  through  a  circle 
of  twenty  or  thirty  miles.  A  few  days  later,  the  patient  dies,  but  no  one 
talks  of  it,  and  on  the  very  hour  of  his  burial  the  tale  of  his  miraculous 
cure  may  be  fervently  repeated  a  hundred  miles  away.  Diogenes  Laertius 
(vi.  2  :  59)  tells  the  whole  story  of  such  delusions. 


70  THE  APOSTLES, 

does  not  prevent  the  contagion  of  feeling,  which  creates 
its  own  legend  to  meet  the  demand.^  In  the  late  story 
of  the  miracle  at  Salette,  error  or  fraud  was  absolutely 
proved  before  the  civil  tribunal  and  the  court  at  Gre- 
noble (May  2,  1855,  May  6,  1857) ;  but  this  did  not 
prevent  a  church  from  being  built,  or  crowds  from 
thronging  to  it. 

We  may  assume,  then,  that  the  disappearance  of  the 
body  was  the  act  of  Jews.  They  may  have  thought 
thus  to  prevent  scenes  of  tuiimlt  which  might  arise  over 
the  body  of  one  so  popular,  or  put  a  stop  to  noisy  fun- 
eral obsequies,  or  the  erection  of  a  pompous  tomb.  Or, 
again,  may  not  the  body  have  been  removed  by  the 
owner  of  the  ground,  or  by  the  gardener  ?  ^  The  owner 
was  (as  I  have  before  hinted),  probably  a  stranger  to  th& 
sect,  this  spot  having  been  chosen,  in  haste,  because  it 
was  the  nearest  ^  —  to  his  displeasure,  so  that  he  took 
steps  at  once  to  remove  the  body.  It  is  true  that  the 
details  as  to  the  shroud  and  the  napkin,  carefully  folded 
and  put  aside  (John  xx.  6,  7),  hardly  agree  with  this 
view :  the  latter  circumstance,  indeed,  would  rather 
make  us  think  of  a  w^oman's  hand,  perhaps  Mary  of 
Bethany,  who  has  no  part  assigned  in  the  events  of  the 
Sunday  morning.*     The  five  accounts  of  the  visits  of 

1  A  very  striking  example  is  found  every  year  at  Jerusalem.  The 
orthodox  Greeks  claim  that  the  fire  self-kindled  at  the  holy  sepulchre  on 
Good  Friday  wipes  off  the  sins  of  those  who  expose  their  faces  to  it  with- 
out scorching  them.  Thousands  of  pilgrims  make  trial  of  it,  and  no  doubt 
feel  it  keenly  (their  writhings  and  the  smell  of  singed  flesh  are  enough 
to  prove  it)  ;  but  no  one  ever  denies  the  orthodox  belief.  This  would  be 
a  proof  that  one  was  weak  in  faith,  or  (good  heavens !)  to  confess  that 
the  Latin  is  the  true  Church ;  for  by  the  Greeks  the  miracle  is  held  to  be 
the  strongest  proof  that  theirs  is  the  only  true  Church. 

2  Of  which  we  seem  to  find  a  hint  in  John  xx.  15. 
*  So  stated  in  John  xix.  41,  42. 

4  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  pp.  332,  344. 


THE  RETREAT  IN  GALILEE.  71 

the  women  are  so  confused  and  uncertain  that  we  may 
well  suspect  some  obscure  misapprehension.  An  emo- 
tional nature  under  strong  excitement  is  subject  to  the 
most  singular  delusions,  and  becomes  an  accomplice  of 
its  own  dreams.^  No  one  thinks  deliberately  of  bring' 
ing  about  the  incidents  regarded  as  miraculous,  but 
everybody  is  brought  involuntarily  to  connive  at  them. 
Mary  Magdalene  had,  in  the  language  of  the  time,  been 
"  possessed  by  seven  demons."  ^  Throughout  the  story 
we  have  to  bear  in  mind  the  extreme  mental  levity  of 
Eastern  women,  their  total  lack  of  education,  and  the 
peculiar  quality  of  their  sincerest  conviction,  which, 
when  raised  to  a  certain  pitch,  takes  them  quite  out  of 
themselves.  When  one  sees  heaven  everywhere,  one  is 
easily  brought  to  put  one's  self  at  times  in  the  place 
of  heaven. 

Let  us  draw  a  veil  over  these  mysteries  of  the  human 
heart.  In  a  condition  of  religious  crisis,  when  every- 
thing is  regarded  as  divine,  the  pettiest  cause  may 
bring  about  the  grandest  result.  If  we  were  witnesses 
of  the  strange  facts  that  lie  near  the  origin  of  all  acts 
of  faith,  we  should  see  in  them  incidents  that  would 
look  wholly  out  of  keeping  with  the  gravity  of  the 
events  they  bring  about,  while  some  of  them  would 
only  make  us  smile.  Our  old  cathedrals  are  among  the 
noblest  structures  in  all  the  world.  "We  cannot  enter 
them  without  being  conscious  of  a  certain  intoxication 
of  infinitude.  Now  these  glorious  wonders  of  mediaeval 
faith  are  almost  always  the  flowering-out  of  some  petty 
deception.  What  matter  the  special  motive  that  lay 
behind  it?     The  result,  in  such  a  matter,  is  all  that 

1  See  remarks  in  Origen,  Contra  Celsum,  ii.  55. 

2  Mark  xvi.  9 ;  Luke  viii.  3. 


72  THE  APOSTLES. 

counts.  To  pure  faith  all  things  are  pure.  The  true 
cause  of  the  resurrection  was  not  this  or  that  outward 
incident  which  may  have  instigated  a  belief  in  it.  The 
real  power  which  brought  Jesus  back  from  the  dead  was 
the  power  of  human  love.  This  was  of  itself  so  mighty, 
that  a  little  chance  incident  was  enough  to  build  the 
great  structure  of  universal  faith.  If  he  had  been  less 
beloved,  if  there  had  thus  been  a  weaker  motive  for  the 
faith,  all  those  chance  incidents  would  have  been  to 
no  effect :  nothing  whatever  would  have  come  of  them. 
A  grain  of  sand  may  serve  to  overthrow  a  mountain 
when  the  moment  of  its  fall  is  come.  The  greatest 
events  may  flow  at  once  from  the  mightiest  sources 
and  from  the  feeblest.  The  mighty  source  is  alone 
the  real  one ;  the  feeble  may  at  best  decide  the  where 
and  the  when  of  a  result  which  has  already  long  been 
predetermined. 


CHAPTER  III, 

THE   KETURN   TO   JERUSALEM.  —  A.  D.  34. 

Meanwhile  the  visions  became  less  frequent  and  less 
bright.  It  must  always  be  so  in  movements  of  enthu- 
siastic faith.  The  popular  imagination  is  like  a  con- 
tagious malady.  Its  virulence  quickly  abates,  and  it 
takes  another  form.  The  activity  of  these  burning 
souls  was  already  turning  towards  another  object. 
What  they  seemed  to  hear  from  the  lips  of  their  dear 
risen  Lord  was  the  command  to  go  before  him,  to 
preach,  to  convert  the  world.  Whither  should  they  go  ? 
Naturally,  to  Jerusalem  (Luke  xxiv.  47).  Their  return 
thither  was  then  resolved  upon  by  those  who  at  this 
moment  gave  direction  to  the  body.  As  these  journeys 
were  commonly  undertaken  in  company,  by  caravans, 
at  festal  periods,  we  may  assume  that  the  return  to 
Jerusalem  took  place  at  the  feast  of  Tabernacles,  at  the 
end  of  A.  D.  33,  or  at  the  Passover  season  of  a.  d.  34. 

Galilee  was  thus  left  behind  by  the  Christian  move- 
ment, and  left  behind  forever.  The  little  church  remain- 
ing there  was  doubtless  still  alive,  but  we  hear  no  more 
of  it.  It  was  probably  crushed  out,  like  all  else,  by 
the  implacable  havoc  which  that  region  underwent  in 
the  war  under  Vespasian;  and  fragments  of  the  dis- 
persed community  took  refuge  beyond  the  Jordan. 
After  the  war,  not  Christianity  but  Judaism  returned 
to  Galilee.     In  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  centuries, 


74  THE  APOSTLES. 

Galilee  is  a  country  thoroughly  Jewish,  the  centre  of 
Judaism,  the  home  of  the  Talmud.^  It  was  thus  but 
for  an  hour  that  Galilee  had  its  part  in  Christian  his- 
tory ;  but  that  was  emphatically  the  sacred  hour,  which 
gave  to  the  new  religion  its  ever-enduring  quality,  its 
poesy  and  charm.  The  gospel,  as  we  find  it  in  the 
Synoptics,  was  the  work  of  Galilee.  And,  as  I  shall 
try  to  show  hereafter,  the  gospel,  so  understood,  has 
been  the  main  cause  of  the  triumphs  of  Christianity, 
and  remains  the  surest  pledge  of  its  future. 

It  is  likely  that  a  portion  of  the  little  company  that 
gathered  about  Jesus  in  the  last  days  of  his  life  had 
stayed  behind  in  Jerusalem.  When  the  parting  took 
place,  belief  in  the  resurrection  was  already  settled; 
and  this  belief  naturally  developed  in  two  directions, 
with  noticeably  different  features,  thus  giving  rise  to 
the  wide  divergence  which  we  find  in  the  accounts.  A 
Galilaaan  as  well  as  a  Jerusalem  tradition  came  to  exist ; 
and  according  to  this  all  the  visions,  excepting  those  at 
the  very  first,  took  place  in  Galilee,  while  the  other 
refers  them  all  to  Jerusalem  or  its  neighbourhood.'* 
The  common  belief,  meanwhile,  was  confirmed  by  the 
agreement  of  all  as  to  the  main  fact  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. The  disciples  were  one  in  the  common  faith,  and 
fervently  repeated  among  themselves,  "  He  is  risen ! " 
The  joy  and  enthusiasm  of  this  harmony  may  have  led 
to  other  visions ;  and  to  this  time   we   may  perhaps 

1  As  to  the  name  "  Galilseans"  given  to  the  Christians,  see  below, 
p.  207  note  4. 

2  Matthew  is  exclusively  Galilsean  ;  Luke  and  the  second  Mark  (xiv. 
9-20)  speak  exclusively  of  Jerusalem;  John  combines  the  two.  Paul 
also  (1  Cor.  xv.  5-8)  refers  to  visions  at  places  widely  apart.  That  seen 
by  "  five  hundred  brethren  "  (which  I  have  spoken  of  as  if  on  the  "  moun- 
tain in  Galilee  ")  may  possibly  have  taken  place  at  or  near  Jerusalem. 


THE  RETURN  TO  JERUSALEM.  75 

refer  that  of  James  spoken  of  by  Paul  (1  Cor.  xv.  7). 
The  silence  of  the  others  regarding  it  is  best  explained 
by  referring  it  to  a  period  beyond  that  of  their  recital ; 
and  this  we  may  infer,  too,  from  the  stress  which  Paul 
lays  on  the  order  of  time.  James,  we  may  remember, 
was  a  brother  of  Jesus,  or  at  least  one  of  his  near  kin- 
dred ;  while  it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  with  him 
during  those  last  days  in  Jerusalem.  He  probably  went 
thither  with  the  rest  when  they  returned  from  Galilee. 
All  the  leading  apostles  had  had  their  vision,  and  "  the 
Lord's  brother"  would  hardly  have  been  without  his 
own.  It  was,  we  may  suppose,  an  "  eucharistic  "  vision, 
in  which  Jesus  was  seen  in  the  act  of  breaking  and  dis- 
tributing the  bread.^  In  later  years  this  vision  was 
referred  by  those  of  the  Christian  family  who  adhered 
to  James  (called  "the  Hebrews")  to  the  very  day  of 
the  resurrection,  and  claimed  by  them  to  have  been  the 
first  of  all.^ 

It  is  a  very  notable  circumstance  that  the  family  of 
Jesus,  several  of  whom  were  incredulous  or  hostile 
during  his  life  (John  vii.  6),  now  take  their  place,  and 
a  high  rank,  in  the  Church.  The  reconciliation,  we 
may  suppose,  took  place  during  the  retreat  in  Galilee. 
The  name  of  their  kinsman  had  of  a  sudden  become 
famous,  and  the  five  hundred  who  believed  in  him  and 
asserted  that  they  had  seen  him  after  his  resurrection, 
may  have  had  an  effect  upon  their  minds.^  As  soon  as 
the  apostles  are  once  fixed  at  Jerusalem,  we  find  among 
them  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  his  brothers.*     Re- 

1  See  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews  in  Jerome,  De  vir.  ill.  2 ;  also  Luke  xxiv. 
41-43. 

2  See  Jerome,  as  above. 

8  May  Gal.  ii.  6  possibly  allude  to  some  such  change  as  this  ? 
*  Acts  i.  14,     We  already  note  in  Luke  a  tendency  to  amplify  the 
part  borne  by  Mary :  see  the  first  two  chapters  of  his  Gospel. 


76  THE  APOSTLES, 

garding  Mary,  John  appears  to  have  adopted  her  and 
lodged  her  in  his  own  dwelling  (John  xix.  25-27),  in 
obedience  to  a  hint  given  him  by  his  Master ;  and  he 
may  very  probably  have  brought  her  back  to  Jerusalem. 
Although  her  personal  traits  and  the  part  she  sustained 
are  very  obscurely  hinted,  she  now  becomes  a  person  of 
high  consequence.  The  allusion  to  her  in  the  blessing 
pronounced  by  an  unknown  woman,  addressed  to  Jesus, 
"  Blessed  is  the  womb  that  bore  thee,  and  the  bosom 
that  nourished  thee,"  begin  now  to  be  fulfilled.  She 
outlived  her  son,  it  is  probable,  but  a  few  years;  the 
tradition  of  her  later  abode  at  Ephesus  being  late  and 
valueless.^ 

We  are  less  sure  as  to  the  brothers  of  Jesus.  It  is 
true  that  he  had  brothers  and  sisters ;  ^  but  among  those 
who  were  later  called  his  "  brethren  "  there  were  doubt- 
less more  remote  relations.  The  question  is  of  impor- 
tance only  as  concerning  James  the  Just,  "  the  Lord's 
brother,"  —  whether  a  real  brother  or  a  cousin,  son 
of  Alpheus,  —  who  held  a  very  high  position  in  the 
Church,  as  we  shall  see,  through  the  first  thirty  years 
of  our  history.  Our  sources  of  information  as  to  this 
are  quite  uncertain  and  contradictory.  What  we  know 
of  James  shows  an  image  so  widely  differing  from  that 
of  Jesus,  that  we  do  not  easily  think  of  them  as 
sons  of  the  same  mother.  While  the  one  was  the  true 
founder  of  Christianity,  the  other  was  its  most  danger- 
ous foe,  nearly  ruining  it  by  the  narrowness  of  his 
spirit.  There  was,  no  doubt,  a  later  belief  that  they 
were  brothers,^  but  this  may  have  been  due  to  some 
confusion  of  names. 

1  Epiphan.  Ixxviii.  11 ;  corap.  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  392. 
a  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  pp.  92,  93. 
"  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews,  as  just  cited. 


THE  RETURN  TO  JERUSALEM.  77 

At  all  events,  Jerusalem  now  becomes  the  abiding- 
place  of  the  apostles/  which  they  quit,  hereafter,  only 
for  short  journeys.  They  seem  to  dread  dispersion, 
and  would  seem  to  be  taking  precautions  against  a 
second  return  to  Galilee,  which  would  have  broken  up 
their  little  community.  A  special  command  of  Jesus 
was  reported,  forbidding  them  to  leave  Jerusalem  until 
the  expected  manifestations  should  have  taken  place.^ 
Visions  became  more  and  more  rare.  They  were  sel- 
dom spoken  of,  and  the  belief  began  to  prevail  that  the 
Master  would  be  seen  no  more  until  his  solemn  reap- 
pearance in  the  clouds.  Imagination  dwelt  rather  on 
a  promise  which  Jesus  was  believed  to  have  made. 
During  his  life,  it  was  said,  he  had  often  spoken  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  as  a  personification  of  Divine  Wisdom.^ 
He  had  promised  that  this  Spirit  would  be  his  disciples' 
strength  in  the  conflicts  they  must  encounter,  their 
inspiration  in  difficulty,  their  advocate  if  they  should 
have  to  meet  a  public  charge.  When  the  visions  be- 
came fewer,  they  reverted  to  this  Spirit,  regarded  as  a 
Comforter,  as  a  second  self  whom  Jesus  would  send  to 
his  friends.  Sometimes,  it  was  said  by  way  of  symbol, 
Jesus  would  suddenly  appear  in  the  midst  of  his  as- 
sembled followers,  and  breathe  upon  them  from  his  own 
lips  a  stream  of  life-giving  air  (John  xx.  22,  23).  Or, 
again,  his  disappearance  was  thought  of  as  the  condi- 
tion of  the  Holy  Spirit's  coming  {id.  xvi.  7).  It  was 
believed  that  in  his  manifestations  he  had  promised  the 

1  Acts  viii.  1  ;  Gal.  i.  17-19;  ii.  1-5. 

2  Luke  xxiv.  49  ;  Acts  i.  4. 

8  This  thought,  it  is  true,  is  developed  only  in  the  Fourth  Gospel 
(chaps,  xiv.-xvi.)  ;  but  it  is  hinted  in  Matt.  iii.  11 ;  Mark  i.  8 ;  Luke  iii. 
16;  xii.  11,  12;  xxiv.  49. 


78  THE  APOSTLES. 

descent  of  the  Spirit ;  and  many  closely  associated  this 
descent  with  the  restoring  of  Israel's  kingdom.^  All 
that  activity  of  fancy  which  had  gone  hitherto  to  create 
the  legend  of  the  risen  Jesus,  was  now  to  be  applied  to 
the  creation  of  a  cycle  of  pious  beliefs  concerning  the 
descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  among  them,  and  the  be- 
stowal of  miraculous  gifts. 

Meanwhile,  a  sublime  manifestation  of  Jesus  appears 
to  have  taken  place  at  Bethany,  or  upon  the  Mount  of 
Olives.^  To  this  manifestation,  according  to  some  tra- 
ditions, belong  the  final  commissions,  the  promise  of 
the  Spirit,  and  the  act  investing  the  disciples  with 
power  to  remit  sins ;  while  others  refer  this  last  gift  to 
a  previous  vision  (John  xx.  23).  The  features  in  these 
manifestations  become  more  indistinct,  and  one  is  some- 
times confounded  with  another,  till  they  cease  to  attract 
much  attention.  Jesus  is  assumed  to  be  still  living; 
and,  this  having  been  sufficiently  established,  he  might 
be  further  manifest  in  partial  visions,  until  his  final 
coming.^  Thus  Paul  represents  the  vision  which  ap- 
peared to  him  near  Damascus  as  one  in  the  same  series 
that  has  now  been  related  (1  Cor.  xv.  8).  In  any  case, 
the  Master  was  regarded  as  being  still  ideally  with  his 
disciples,  and  so  to  be  with  them  to  the  end.*  In  the 
earlier  days,  since  Jesus  often  manifested  himself,  he 

*  Luke  xxiv.  49  ;  Acts  i.  4,  5-8. 

^  1  Cor.  XV.  7 ;  Luke  xxiv.  50-53 ;  Acts  i.  2-5.  We  may,  indeed, 
regard  the  vision  at  Bethany,  related  by  Luke,  as  parallel  with  that  upon 
the  mountain  told  in  Matt,  xxviii.  16-20 ;  but  this  latter  is  not  accom- 
panied by  the  ascension.  A  like  manifestation  in  Mark  xvi.  9-20,  with 
the  final  commission,  is  placed  at  Jerusalem.  Paul,  again,  represents  the 
appearance  to  "  all  the  apostles  "  as  distinct  from  that  to  "  five  hundred 
of  the  brethren  "  (1  Cor.  xv.  5-7). 

*  Luke  xxiv.  23  ;  Acts  xxv.  19. 

*  Matt,  xxviii  20. 


THE  RETURN  TO  JERUSALEM.  79 

was  conceived  as  still  dwelling  upon  the  earth,  more  or 
less  under  the  conditions  of  earthly  life.  As  the  visions 
became  infrequent,  he  was  conceived  under  another 
figure,  as  having  entered  into  his  glory,  and  as  seated 
at  the  right  hand  of  his  Father.  The  belief  about  him 
was,  that  "  he  is  ascended  into  heaven." 

This  phrase,  indeed,  was  often  used  as  mere  vague 
imagery  or  dogma ;  ^  but  many  understood  it  as  signi- 
fying a  material  scene,  holding  that,  after  his  last  ap- 
pearance to  all  the  apostles,  and  his  final  commission 
to  them,  Jesus  in  bodily  form  was  taken  into  heaven.^ 
The  scene  of  this  was  afterwards  expanded  and  made 
into  a  complete  legend.  It  was  said  that  celestial  per- 
sonages, in  dazzling  raiment  (recalling  the  scene  of  the 
transfiguration)  appeared  at  the  moment  when  the  cloud 
enfolded  him,  and  consoled  the  disciples  by  assuring 
them  that  he  would  return  with  glory  in  the  clouds  just 
as  he  had  parted  from  them.  The  death  of  Moses  had 
been  shrouded  by  popular  imagination  in  the  like  mys- 
tery ;  ^  the  ascension  of  Elijah  in  a  fiery  chariot  was 
also  brought  to  mind.*  Luke  places  the  scene  of  the 
ascension  near  Bethany,  on  the  summit  of  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  —  this  region  being  held  peculiarly  dear 
among  the  disciples,  because  Jesus  had  lived  there. 

According  to  the  legend,  the  disciples  after  this  scene 
of  marvel  returned  to  Jerusalem  "  with  great  joy " 
(Luke  xxiv.  52).     But  for  us  it  is  a  sad  thing  to  take 

1  John  iii.  13;  vi.  62;  xvi.  7;  xx.  17;  Eph.  iv.  10;  1  Pet.  iii.  22; 
neither  Matthew  nor  John  having  related  the  scene  of  ascension,  while 
the  language  of  Paul  (1  Cor.  xv.  7,  8)  seems  to  exclude  the  very  idea. 

2  Mark  xiv.  19;  Luke  xxiv.  50-52;  Acts  i.  2-12;  Justin,  Apol.  i.  50; 
Asc.  of  Isaiah,  Ethiopic  vers.  xi.  22;  Latin  vers.  (Venice,  1522). 

8  Jos.  Antiq.  iv.  8:  48. 
4  2  Kings,  ii.  11-13. 


8o  THE  APOSTLES. 

our  last  farewell  of  Jesus,  as  it  has  been  a  consolation 
to  find  him  once  more  living  in  his  shadowy  life.  Pale 
image  as  it  is  of  his  former  existence,  it  has  yet  its 
charm.  But  henceforth  the  fragrance  of  his  presence 
is  gone.  Borne  upon  a  cloud  to  his  Father's  right  hand, 
he  leaves  us  among  men:  and  what  a  fall  is  there! 
The  realm  of  poetry  is  past.  The  Magdalene  broods 
upon  her  memories  in  the  village  to  which  she  is  with- 
drawn. With  that  unvarying  injustice  which  causes 
man  to  claim  to  himself  alone  the  glory  of  a  task  where 
woman  has  an  equal  share,  Cephas  casts  her  into  the 
shadow,  to  be  forgotten.  No  more  sermons  on  the 
mount !  no  more  healing  of  demoniacs,  or  pardon  of 
the  sinful ;  no  more  of  those  female  fellow-workers  to 
whom  He  never  refused  a  share  in  the  task  of  redemp- 
tion. The  divinity  has  disappeared  from  the  scene. 
Christian  history  will  hereafter  tell  oftenest  how  the 
idea  of  Jesus  has  been  betrayed.  Still,  that  history 
is  a  tribute  to  his  glory.  The  words  and  the  per- 
son of  the  exalted  Nazarene  remain  as  a  sublime  ideal 
in  the  midst  of  boundless  wretchedness.  We  shall 
better  understand  his  greatness  when  we  contrast  it 
with  the  littleness  of  those  who  called  themselves  his 
disciples. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DESCENT   OF   THE   HOLT   SPIRIT.  —  A.  D.  34. 

Petty,  narrow,  ignorant,  void  of  experience,  those  dis- 
ciples were,  as  much  as  man  can  be.  Their  minds  were 
simple  and  credulous  to  the  last  degree.  But  they  had 
one  noble  quality ;  their  affection  to  their  Master  was 
without  bounds.  His  memory  had  remained  the  one 
motive  power  of  their  life.  By  it  they  were  wholly 
possessed ;  and  henceforth,  it  was  clear,  they  would  live 
only  through  him  who  for  two  or  three  years  had  so 
won  them  and  attached  them  to  himself.  For  minds 
of  the  second  order  —  unable  to  find  God  directly,  that 
is,  to  know  the  true  or  achieve  the  beautiful  or  do  the 
good  by  their  own  strength  —  salvation  must  be  had 
by  love  of  some  one  who  shall  reflect  to  them  the  lustre 
of  the  true,  beautiful,  and  good.  Most  men  have  need 
to  worship  at  a  little  distance.  The  multitude  of  adorers 
need  an  intermediary  between  themselves  and  God. 

At  the  death  of  one  who  has  drawn  about  him  a 
group  of  others,  closely  united  in  one  lofty  moral  pur- 
pose, it  will  often  happen  that  the  others,  hitherto  sun- 
dered by  personal  rivalries  and  -dissent,  feel  all  the  more 
deeply  their  mutual  tie  of  fellowship.  Cherished  memo- 
ries of  the  departed  leader  make  their  common  treasure. 
To  love  one  another  is  but  one  form  of  the  love  they 
bore  to  him;  and  they  crave  to  meet  together,  that 
those  precious  memories  may  be  renewed.     That  pro- 


82  THE  APOSTLES. 

found  word  of  Jesus  is  literally  fulfilled  :  "  Where  two 
or  three  are  met  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst 
of  them"  (Matt,  xviii.  20). 

Thus  the  mutual  affection  of  the  disciples  was  ten- 
fold what  it  had  been  during  the  Master's  life.  They 
formed  a  little  company,  apart  from  others,  living 
exclusively  among  themselves.  About  one  hundred 
and  twenty  of  them  were  in  Jerusalem  (Acts  i.  15). 
The  greater  part  of  the  "  five  hundred  "  were  doubt- 
less still  in  Galilee.  The  later  number  '^  three  thou- 
sand" (Acts  ii.  41)  must  be  an  exaggeration,  or  at  least 
anticipates  the  fact.  Their  piety  was  zealous,  and  as 
yet  the  form  it  took  was  wholly  Jewish.  The  Temple 
was  their  chief  place  of  worship.^  It  is  certain  that 
they  worked  for  their  living  ;  but,  among  Jews  of  that 
day,  manual  labour  consumed  little  time.  Every  one 
had  a  trade,  which  need  no  way  hinder  him  from  being 
a  man  of  scholarship  or  breeding.  Among  us  material 
wants  are  so  hard  to  satisfy  that  one  living  by  hand-work 
is  forced  to  toil  twelve  or  fifteen  hours  a  day.  Only 
the  man  of  leisure  can  give  thought  to  interests  of  the 
soul,  and  to  acquire  learning  is  a  rare  and  costly  thing. 
But  in  those  communities  of  old  —  of  which  the  East 
still  offers  the  example, — in  a  climate  where  nature  lav- 
ishes so  much  upon  man  and  demands  so  little  from  him, 
the  toiler's  life  left  him  much  time  to  spare.  A  kind 
of  instruction  open  to  everybody  diffused  among  all  the 
common  stock  of  thought.  Nothing  was  needed  but 
"  food  and  raiment ;  "^  and  these  were  earned  by  a  very 
few  hours  of  toil.     The  rest  was  given  over  to  dream, 

^  Luke  zxiv.  53;  Acts  ii.  46;  comp.  Luke  ii.  37;  Hegesippus  in  Euseb. 
ii.  23. 

•  Deut.  X.  18  ;  1  Tim.  vi.  8. 


DESCENT  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT.  83 

to  passion  ;  and  in  these  souls  passion  bore  sway  to  a 
degree  which  we  find  inconceivable.  The  Jews  of  that 
time  —  so  Josephus  shows  them  in  his  story  of  their 
war  —  are  in  our  eyes  veritable  madmen  :  each,  like  a 
spring  let  loose  in  blind  recoil,  obeys  the  thought  of  the 
instant  as  it  has  seized  him. 

The  ruling  thought  in  the  Christian  community  at 
this  moment,  when  visions  had  but  just  ceased,  was  the 
coming  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  be  received  in  the  form 
of  a  mysterious  breath  that  should  pass  upon  all  the 
company  (John  xx.  22).  All  sense  of  inward  comfort, 
every  impulse  of  courage,  every  outburst  of  enthusiasm, 
every  soft  and  warm  emotion  of  gladness  coming  one 
knew  not  from  what  source,  was  the  operation  of  the 
Spirit.^  These  honest  hearts  referred  (as  ever)  to  an 
outward  source  the  delicious  emotions  that  sprang  up 
within  them.  The  strange  phenomena  of  illuminism 
were  especially  frequent  in  their  assemblies.  When  all 
were  gathered,  silently  waiting  inspiration  from  on 
high,  a  slight  murmur  or  any  sound  might  make  them 
believe  in  the  coming  of  the  Spirit.  It  was  thus,  for- 
merly, that  the  presence  of  Jesus  was  announced.  Now 
that  the  current  of  thought  was  altered,  it  was  the 
Divine  breath  poured  out  upon  the  little  Church,  and 
filling  the  place  with  celestial  odours. 

The  symbolic  form  in  which  these  beliefs  were  clothed 
was  one  familiar  in  the  Old  Testament.  In  Hebraic 
language,  the  prophetic  spirit  is  a  "  breath  "  which  at 
once  penetrates  and  uplifts.  In  the  noble  vision  of 
Elijah,  the  Lord's  presence  was  expressed  by  "a  still 

^  So  in  the  modern  hymn :  — 

And  every  virtue  we  possess,  and  every  victory  won, 
And  every  thought  of  holiness,  are  His  alone.  —  Ed. 


84  THE  APOSTLES. 

small  voice  "  (1  Kings,  xix.  12).  These  old  images  had 
brought  about,  in  later  times,  a  belief  very  like  that 
of  the  Spiritism  of  our  days.  In  the  "Ascension  of 
Isaiah,"  early  in  the  second  Christian  century,  the 
coming  of  the  Spirit  is  attended  by  a  shaking  of  the 
doors  (vi.  6).  Still  oftener,  this  coming  was  conceived 
as  a  second  baptism,  that  of  the  Spirit,  far  superior  to 
that  of  John.^  Delusions  of  touch  were  very  frequent 
among  persons  so  nervously  excited ;  and  thus  the 
slightest  breath  of  air,  with  any  shiver  in  the  midst  of 
silence,  was  regarded  as  the  passing  of  the  Spirit.  One 
thinks  he  feels  it ;  presently  all  feel  it ;  ^  and  the  en- 
thusiasm spreads  from  each  to  the  next.  We  see  how 
like  these  experiences  are  to  those  of  visionaries  in 
every  age.  They  are  witnessed  every  day,  often  the 
effect  of  reading  the  Book  of  Acts,  among  the  Quakers, 
English  or  American,  the  Jumpers,  Shakers,  Irvingites, 
or  Mormons,  or  in  American  camp-meetings  and  revi- 
vals,^ also  among  the  Spiritists  of  France.  But  there 
is  a  wide  interval  between  such  aimless  and  endless 
aberrations  as  these,  and  those  illusions  which  came 
with  the  establishing  of  a  new  gospel  for  mankind. 

Among  these  "  descents  of  the  Spirit,"  which  seem  to 
have  been  numerous,  one  has  left  a  profound  impres- 
sion upon  the  Church  then  coming  to  its  birth.*  On 
one  occasion  a  storm  burst  forth  while  the  brethren 
were  assembled ;  a  strong  wind  blew  open  the  case- 
ments, and  the  sky  was  as  it  were  in  flames.    Thunder- 

1  Matt.  iii.  11;  Mark  i.  8;  Luke  iii.  16;  Acta  i.  5;  zi.  16;  xix.  4 ; 
1  John  V.  6-8. 

^  Comp.  Misson,  le  Theatre  sacr6  des  C^vennes,  p.  103. 
«  Jales  Remy,  Voyage,  etc.  i.  259,  260 ;  ii.  470  et  seq. 
*  Acts  ii.  1-4;  Justin.  Apol.  i.  50. 


DESCENT  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT.  85 

storms  in  this  region  are  accompanied  by  prodigious 
flashes  of  light,  and  the  air  seems  to  be  furrowed  all 
about  by  streaks  of  flame.  Whether  the  lightning  ac- 
tually passed  within  the  chamber,  or  a  dazzling  flash 
suddenly  lighted  up  the  faces  of  all,  they  were  per- 
suaded that  the  Spirit  had  entered  and  rested  as  a 
"  tongue  of  fire  "  on  each  head.^  The  miracle-working 
(theurgic)  schools  of  Syria  held  that  the  entrance  of 
the  Spirit  is  by  a  divine  fire,  and  under  the  form  of  a 
mysterious  gleam.^  It  was  as  if  they  were  present  at 
the  very  splendours  of  Sinai ;  ^  the  manifestation  was, 
as  it  were,  one  of  the  ancient  day.  Henceforth,  "  bap- 
tism of  the  Spirit "  is  also  a  baptism  of  fire ;  and  it  is 
distinctly  opposed  to  and  set  above  John's  baptism  of 
water  only.*  It  is  given,  too,  but  rarely ;  only  the 
apostles,  who  had  shared  in  the  first  institution  of  the 
Eucharist,  were  thought  to  have  received  it.  But 
the  idea  that  the  Spirit  had  hovered  over  them  in 
the  form  of  jets  of  flame,  like  burning  tongues,  was  the 
origin  of  singular  ideas,  very  prominent  in  the  fancies 
of  the  time. 

The  tongue  of  the  inspired  man  was  thought  to  re- 
ceive a  sort  of  consecration.  It  was  asserted  that  many 
prophets,  before  their  mission,  had  been  stammerers  ;  ^ 
that  the  angel  of  the  Lord  had  touched  their  lips  with 
a  live  coal,^  which  removed  all  impurity  and  bestowed 

^  In  Hebrew  a  "tongue  of  fire"  is  simply  a  flame;  see  Isa.  v.  24; 
Virgil,  JEn.  ii.  682-684. 

2  See  lamblichus,  Be  myst.  iii.  6. 

'  Comp.  Babyl.  Talm.,  Chagiga,  14  6;  Midrashim,  Shir  hasshirin  rabbuj 
106;  Ruth  rabba,  42  a;  Koheleth  rabba,  87  a. 

*  Matt.  iii.  11 ;  Luke  iii.  16.  * 
6  Exod.  iv.  10 ;  Jer.  i.  6. 

•  Isa.  vi.  5 ;  Jer.  i.  9. 


86  THE  APOSTLES. 

the  gift  of  eloquence.  In  his  public  appeals  the 
prophet  was  thought  never  to  speak  of  himself/  his 
tongue  being  but  the  organ  of  the  Deity  who  inspired 
him.  These  tongues  of  fire  were  held  to  be  a  striking 
symbol.  It  was  believed  that  God  had  chosen  thus  to 
signify  that  he  poured  out  upon  the  apostles  his  most 
precious  gifts  of  eloquence  and  inspiration.  But  this 
was  not  all.  Jerusalem,  like  most  cities  of  the  East, 
was  a  city  of  many  tongues.  Now  difference  in  speech 
was  one  of  the  gravest  difficulties  in  the  spread  of  a 
universal  faith.  Nothing  was  more  alarming  to  the 
apostles,  setting  out  on  a  mission  that  was  to  embrace 
the  earth,  than  the  number  of  languages  spoken  in  it : 
ever  they  must  question  with  themselves  how  they 
should  learn  so  many  dialects.  Thus  "the  gift  of 
tongues  "  became  a  miraculous  privilege.  The  preach- 
ing of  the  gospel  was  thus  relieved  of  the  obstacle 
created  by  diverse  idioms.  In  circumstances  of  special 
solemnity,  it  may  be  supposed  that  the  bystanders  had 
heard  the  apostles'  preaching  each  man  in  his  own 
tongue ;  that  is,  their  word  tramlated  itself  to  each  one 
of  those  present.^  Sometimes,  indeed,  it  was  understood 
differently  :  that  the  apostles,  by  divine  inspiration,  had 
the  gift  of  knowing  all  languages  and  speaking  them  at 
will.2 

In  this  there  was  the  hint  of  a  larger  freedom.  The 
thought  implied  in  it  is  that  the  Gospel  has  not  a  spe- 
cial dialect  of  its  own  ;  that  it  may  be  translated  into 

*  Luke  xi.  12 ;  John  xiv.  26. 

2  Acts  ii.  5-13.  This  is  the  most  plausible  understanding  of  the  ac- 
count, which  may,  however,  mean  that  each  of  the  dialects  was  spoken 
independently  by  each  of  the  speakers. 

8  Acts  ii.  4 ;  1  Cor.  xii.  10,  28 ;  xiv.  21,  22.  Comp.  for  illustration 
Calmeil,  De  la  folie,  i.  9,  262;  ii.  357  et  seq. 


DESCENT  OF   THE  HOLY  SPIRIT.  87 

every  language,  and  that  the  translation  is  as  good  as 
the  original.  But  such  was  not  the  feeling  of  Jewish 
orthodoxy.  For  the  Jew  of  Jerusalem  Hebrew  is  the 
one  "  holy  tongue ; "  no  other  can  take  its  place.  Trans- 
lations of  the  Bible  were  held  in  small  esteem.  While 
the  Hebrew  text  was  scrupulously  kept  the  same, 
changes  and  softenings  were  allowed  in  translations. 
Jews  in  Egypt  and  Hellenists  in  Palestine,  it  is  true, 
allowed  themselves  more  freedom,  employing  Greek  in 
prayer,^  and  habitually  reading  Greek  translations  of 
the  Bible.  But  the  earliest  Christian  idea  was  broader 
yet :  that  the  word  of  God  has  no  special  language,  but 
is  free  of  all  linguistic  fetters,  yielding  itself  to  all  of 
its  own  accord,  and  needing  no  interpreter.  The  ease 
with  which  Christianity  released  itself  from  the  Sem- 
itic dialect  spoken  by  Jesus,  the  freedom  which  it  allowed 
to  every  people  of  forming  its  own  liturgy  and  its  ver- 
sion of  the  Bible  in  its  own  native  tongue,  all  made  a 
part  of  this  emancipation.  It  was  generally  held  that 
the  Messiah  would  bring  into  one  all  languages  as  well 
as  all  peoples.^  The  common  and  indifferent  employ- 
ment of  various  tongues  made  the  first  step  toward 
this  grand  era  of  universal  peace. 

But  it  was  not  long  before  the  gift  of  tongues  took 
a  new  form  and  ran  into  the  strangest  extravagances. 
A  sort  of  delirium  would  sometimes  lead  to  ecstasy 
and  prophesying.  At  such  times  the  true  believer,  in 
the  seizure  of  the  Spirit,  would  utter  inarticulate  and 
incoherent  sounds,  which  others  would  take  for  words 
in  a  strange  tongue,  and  attempt  in  all  simplicity  to 


1  Jerus.  Talmud,  Sota,  21  6. 

2  Testament  of  the  Twelve  Patriarchs :  Judah,  25. 


88  THE  APOSTLES. 

translate  their  meaning.*  At  other  times,  it  was 
thought  that  the  person  inspired  spoke  in  languages 
new,  hitherto  unknown,  or  even,  it  might  be,  in  the 
tongue  of  angels.^  In  general,  these  strange  scenes  did 
not  occur  till  later  ;  ^  but  it  is  likely  that  they  were  not 
unknown  from  the  beginning.  Visions  of  the  ancient 
prophets  had  often  been  attended  by  symptoms  of  ner- 
vous excitement  (1  Sam.  xix.  23,  24).  The  condition 
called  among  the  Greeks  dithyrambic  was  signalised  by 
like  phenomena ;  and  the  Py thia  sometimes  preferred  to 
use  foreign  or  archaic  expressions,  which  as  in  the  early 
Church,  were  called  "tongues"  (yXwcro-at).*  Many  cur- 
rent phrases  in  primitive  Christianity,  bilingual  or  in 
anagram,  —  such  as  Ahha  Father ,  Anathema  Maranatha^ 
may  have  had  their  origin  in  these  moments  of  frenzy, 
accompanied  by  sighs,  stifled  groans,  outcries,  supplica- 
tions, and  sudden  bursts,  which  were  taken  to  be  pro- 
phetical. It  was  like  a  formless  music  of  the  soul, 
uttered  in  inarticulate  sounds,  which  the  hearers  tried  to 
render  into  precise  words  or  images ;  ^  or,  again,  prayers 
of  the  spirit,  addressed  to  God  in  words  known  to  him 
alone,"^  the  person  in  ecstasy  having  neither  under- 
standing nor  consciousness  of  what  he  said.'     He  was 

1  Acts  ii.  4;  x.  44-48;  xi.  15;  xix.  6;  1  Cor.  xii.-xiv. 

2  Mark  xvi.  17;  1  Cor.  xiii.  1  (in  connection  with  what  precedes).  In 
Hebrew,  as  in  all  ancient  languages,  the  word  for  "strange"  or  "foreign 
tongue"  was  derived  from  those  meaning  "to  stammer"  or  "babble," 
since  to  simple  peoples  the  speech  of  foreigners  seems  a  confused  babble- 
ment.    See  Isa.  xxviii.  11 ;  xxxiii.  19  ;  1  Cor.  xiv.  21. 

»  1  Cor.  xii.  28,  80;  xiv.  2-5. 

*  Plutarch,  De  Pythice  oraculis,  24.     See  also  the  strange  vocables  em- 
ployed by  Cassandra  in  her  ravings :  iEschylus,  Agamemnon,  1072  et  seq. 
«  1  Cor.  xiii.  3;  xvi.  22 ;  Rom.  viii.  15,  23,  26,  27. 
'  1  Cor.  xiii.  1 ;  xiv.  7-11. 
»  Rom.  viii.  26,  27.  8  i  Cor.  xiv.  13,  14,  27-32. 


DESCENT  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT.  89 

eagerly  listened  to,  meanwhile,  and  his  incoherent  utter- 
ance was  explained  by  such  thoughts  as  might  occur 
at  the  moment.  Each  hearer  caught  at  something  he 
might  recall  in  his  own  provincial  speech,  to  interpret 
the  unintelligible  sounds ;  and  he  always  succeeded,  for 
better  or  worse,  by  supplying  to  this  broken  speech  the 
thought  that  was  just  then  wakened  in  his  mind. 

The  history  of  the  sects  of  illaminati  is  full  of  just 
such  instances.  The  preachers  of  the  Ce venues  ex- 
hibited many  a  case  of  "  glossolalia."  ^  But  the  most 
striking  example  is  that  of  the  Swedish  "Readers"  of 
1841-43.^  Involuntary  words,  void  of  meaning  to  those 
who  speak  them,  attended  by  swooning  and  convulsions, 
were  long  a  daily  practice  in  this  sect,  and  grew  con- 
tagious, so  as  to  stir  considerable  popular  excitement. 
Among  the  Irvingites  the  phenomena  of  tongues  re- 
peated in  a  very  striking  way  what  is  told  by  Luke  and 
Paul.^  Our  own  time  has  witnessed  scenes  of  similar 
illusion  which  I  need  not  here  recall,  since  it  is  always 
unjust  to  compare  the  credulity  inevitable  in  a  great 
religious  movement  with  that  which  originates  in  mere 
emptiness  of  mind. 

These  strange  displays  would  sometimes  find  their 
way  out-doors.  Enthusiasts,  at  the  moment  of  their 
highest,  strangest  ecstasy,  would  venture  out  and  exhibit 
themselves  before  the  crowd,  and  so  were  taken  to  be 
intoxicated  (Acts  ii.  13,  15).     Jesus,  himself,  though 

^  Jurieu,  Lettres  pastorales:  Misson,  le  Theatre,  etc.,  pass.;  Brueys, 
Hist,  du  fanatisme,  i.  145  et  seq. ;  Flechier,  Lettres  choisies,  i.  353. 

2  K.  Hase,  Kirchengesch.  §§  439,  458:5;  VEsperance  (Prot.  journal), 
1  April,  1847. 

3  Hohl,  BruchstiicJce,  etc.,  145,  149  ;  Hase,  §  458 : 4.  See  also  the  various 
accounts  of  the  Mormons  and  the  Convulsionnaires  of  St.  Medard  (Remy ; 
Carre  de  Montgeron). 


90 


THE  APOSTLES. 


ordinarily  of  well-balanced  mind,  more  than  once  ex- 
hibited the  usual  signs  of  ecstasy.^  For  two  or  three 
years  the  disciples  were  possessed  with  these  ideas.  The 
exercise  of  prophecy  was  reckoned  akin  to  the  gift  of 
tongues.*^  Prayer,  accompanied  with  violent  gestures, 
intoning  of  the  voice,  profound  sighs,  lyric  enthusiasm, 
and  a  chanting  method  of  delivery,^  was  of  daily  fre- 
quency. A  rich  vein  of  canticles,  psalms,  and  hymns, 
borrowed  from  the  Old  Testament,  thus  lay  open.* 
Heart  and  lips  might  join  in  the  act  of  praise,  but  at 
times  the  lips  were  silent,  the  heart  alone  engaged  in 
prayer.^  Since  no  language  contained  terms  to  express 
the  new  emotion,  there  came  about  the  practice  of  an 
inarticulate  stammering,  at  once  childish  and  sublime, 
the  embryonic  condition  of  what  we  may  call  "  the 
Christian  language."  Christianity,  in  fact,  had  broken 
the  mould  of  the  ancient  tongues,  not  finding  in  them 
an  instrument  suited  to  its  needs.  But,  before  it  could 
shape  out  the  idiom  it  required,  centuries  must  pass, 
while  many  of  its  obscure  efforts  might  be  described  as 
an  inarticulate  moaning.  The  style  of  Paul,  and  that 
in  many  of  the  New  Testament  writings,  suggests  that 
cramped,  panting,  shapeless  improvisation  called  "  the 
gift  of  tongues."  Ordinary  speech  breaks  down  under 
these  men.  They  know  not  how  to  speak,  and  must 
begin,  like  the  prophets,  by  the  infant's  cry  of  "Ah  !  " 
(Jer.  i.  6).  The  Greek  and  the  Semitic  tongues  fail 
them  alike :  hence  the  violences  done  to  language  by 

1  Mark  iii.  21-25;  John  x.  20,  21  ;  xii.  27-29. 

2  Acts  xix.  6 ;  1  Cor.  xiv.  3-5. 

"  Acts  X.  46  ;  1  Cor.  xiv.  15,  16,  26. 

*  Col.  iii.  16;  Eph.  v.  19;  Luke,  chaps,  i.,  ii.  (cf.  Luke  i.  46  with  Acts 
X.  46). 

*  1  Cor.  xiv.  15;  CoL  iii.  16  ;  Eph.  v.  19. 


DESCENT  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT.  91 

Christianity  in  its  cradle.  As  in  the  mouth  of  one  who 
stammers,  the  sounds  hustle  and  choke  one  another, 
resulting  in  a  confused  but  very  expressive  pantomime. 

All  this  was  far,  indeed,  from  the  thought  of  Jesus  ; 
but  such  exhibitions  had  profound  meaning  to  minds 
steeped  in  belief  of  the  supernatural.  The  gift  of 
tongues  was  regarded,  in  especial,  as  an  essential  sign 
of  the  new  religion  and  a  witness  to  its  truth  (Mark 
xvi.  17).  And  in  truth  great  fruits  of  edification  were 
found  in  it,  with  the  conversion  of  many  pagans.^  Until 
the  third  century,  the  gift  of  tongues  continued  to  be 
manifest  in  the  way  described  by  Paul,  and  was  re- 
garded as  a  permanent  miracle.^  Some  of  the  sublime 
phrases  of  Christian  imagery  had  their  birth  in  these 
"  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered "  (Rom.  viii.  26). 
Their  general  effect  was  to  touch  and  penetrate  the 
soul.  Thus  to  make  common  property  of  one's  indi- 
vidual inspirations,  submitting  them  to  be  interpreted 
by  the  general  thought,  must  unfailingly  create  a  pow- 
erful bond  of  brotherhood. 

Like  all  mystics,  these  new  brethren  led  a  life  of 
fasting  and  self-denial.^  Like  most  Orientals,  they 
ate  sparingly,  and  this  aided  to  sustain  their  ex- 
alted mood.  The  sober  Syrian  regimen,  causing 
physical  weakness,  promotes  a  perpetual  condition  of 
fever  and  nervous  susceptibility.  That  sustained  effort 
of  the  brain  common  among  us  would  be  impossible 
under  such  a  regimen.     On  the  other  hand,  this  cere- 

1  1  Cor.  xiv.  22.  "  Spirit,"  in  Paul's  epistles,  is  often  nearly  one  with 
♦'  power."     Thus  Spiritist  phenomena  are  regarded  as  miracles. 

2  Iren.  Adv.  hcer.  v.  6:1;  Tertull.  Adv.  Marcion,  v.  8 ;  Constit.  Apost. 
viii.  i. 

8  Luke  ii.  37;  2  Cor.  vi.  5;  xi.  27. 


5j  THE  APOSTLES. 

bral  and  muscular  debility  brings,  without  apparent 
cause,  alternations  of  gloom  and  joy,  which  incessantly 
throw  the  soul  back  on  God.  What  is  called  a  "  godly 
sorrow"  (17  Kara  deov  Xv-rrq :  2  Cor.  vii.  10)  was  reck- 
oned a  celestial  gift.  The  entire  doctrine  of  the  great 
Eastern  Fathers  regarding  the  spiritual  life,  all  the 
secrets  of  that  great  art  of  dealing  with  the  inward 
experience,  —  among  the  most  glorious  creations  of 
Christianity,  —  may  be  found  in  germ  in  that  strange 
condition  of  the  soul  undergone,  in  their  months  of 
anxious  waiting,  by  these  ilhistrious  forerunners  of 
"men  of  the  spirit."  To  us  their  moral  state  is  a 
strange  thing,  —  living  in  the  supernatural,  acting 
only  as  in  vision,  and  holding  their  dreams,  the  mi- 
nutest circumstances  of  their  lives,  to  be  monitions 
from  the  heavenly  powers.^ 

Under  the  phrase  "  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit "  were 
thus  hidden  the  rarest  and  most  exquisite  conditions  of 
the  soul,  —  love,  piety,  a  reverent  fear,  unbidden  sighs, 
sudden  yieldings  to  emotion,  a  spontaneous  tenderness. 
Whatever  of  good  is  found  in  man  that  can  be  traced 
to  no  human  source  was  ascribed  to  a  breath  from 
above.  Tears,  especially,  were  held  to  be  a  sign  of 
celestial  favour.  This  lovely  grace,  privilege  only  of 
the  best  and  purest  souls,  belonged  to  boundless  gen- 
tleness of  heart.  It  is  well  known  what  strength  deli- 
cate natures,  women  especially,  have  found  in  the 
divine  gift  of  copious  tears.  It  is  for  such  one  form 
of  prayer,  and  surely  the  holiest  of  prayers.  Coming 
down  far  into  the  later  Middle  Age,  to  the  tear-flooded 
piety  of  Saints  Bruno,  Bernard,  and  Francis  of  Assisi, 

1  Acts  viii.  26-28 ;  x.  throughout;  xvi.  6,  7,  9,  10  ;  Luke  ii.  27-32. 


DESCENT  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT.  93 

we  find  again  that  chastened  sadness  of  the  early  days, 
when  those  words  were  so  proved  true,  that  "  they  who 
sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy."  Weeping  thus  became 
an  act  of  piety  \  and  those  who  had  no  skill  to  preach, 
or  speak  in  tongues,  or  perform  acts  of  miracle,  might 
at  least  shed  tears.  And  this  they  did  in  prayer,  in 
preaching,  in  warning ;  ^  it  was  the  advent  of  a  reign 
of  tears.  One  might  have  said  that  the  very  soul  was 
dissolving,  and,  in  lack  of  a  language  adequate  to  the 
emotion,  would  spend  itself  abroad  in  a  living  and 
condensed  expression  of  its  whole  interior  life. 

1  Acts  XX.  19,  31;  Rom.  viii.  23,  26. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   PRIMITIVE   CHURCH   A    COMMUNITY. — A.  D.  35. 

The  habit  of  living  together,  in  one  faith  and  pur- 
pose, naturally  brought  about  many  a  common  custom. 
Rules  were  soon  established,  which  made  the  primitive 
Church  very  like  those  institutions  of  monastic  life, 
afterward  familiar  in  Christian  history.  Many  precepts 
of  Jesus  led  in  this  direction.  The  true  ideal  of  life  in 
the  gospels  is  monastic,  —  not  a  monastery  shut  in  with 
gratings,  a  prison,  such  as  in  the  Middle  Age,  with  sep- 
aration of  the  sexes ;  but  a  retreat  amid  the  world,  a 
space  set  apart  for  the  life  of  the  spirit,  a  free  associa- 
tion or  little  intimate  brotherhood,  fenced  about  to 
exclude  the  anxieties  which  harm  the  freedom  of  the 
divine  kingdom. 

All  lived  accordingl}'^  in  common,  having  but  one  heart 
and  one  mind.^  No  one  of  them  had  anything  which  he 
called  his  own.  In  becoming  disciples  of  Jesus,  they 
sold  their  goods  and  brought  in  the  price  as  a  gift  to 
the  community,  the  leaders  then  distributing  the  com- 
mon fund  to  each  according  to  his  need.  They  lived  in 
a  quarter  by  themselves.^  They  partook  of  a  common 
meal,  still  ascribing  to  it  the  mystic  sense  which  Jesus 
had  ordained.^  Long  hours  were  spent  in  prayers, 
sometimes  uttered  aloud,  oftener  in  silent  meditation. 

1  Acts  ii.  42-47 ;  iv.  32-37 ;  v.  1-11 ;  vi.  1-4. 

«  Acts  ii.  44-47.  «  Ibid.  ii.  46 ;  xx.  7, 11. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.  95 

Ecstasies  were  common,  and  all  believed  themselves  to 
be  continually  favoured  by  divine  inspiration.  Har- 
mony was  perfect,  with  no  doctrinal  dispute  and  no 
strife  for  precedence.  All  such  differences  were  blotted 
out  by  the  tender  memory  of  Jesus.  In  every  heart 
was  a  deep  and  living  joy.^  Morality  was  strict,  but 
softened  by  a  warm  and  tender  feeling.  Groups  met 
in  private  houses  for  prayer  or  indulgence  of  religious 
emotions.  The  memory  of  these  two  or  three  first 
years  remained  among  them  as  of  an  earthly  paradise, 
which  was  henceforth  to  be  sought  in  the  dreams  of 
Christendom,  but  was  never  to  return.  Such  an  organ- 
isation, in  truth,  could  be  realised  only  by  a  very  small 
brotherhood ;  though  later  it  was  the  ideal  of  monas- 
tic life,  which  the  Church  at  large  made  no  effort  to 
attain. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  the  writer  of  "  Acts,"  to  whom 
we  owe  this  picture  of  primitive  Christianity,  has  more 
or  less  qualified  the  colouring,  and,  in  particular,  has 
overstated  the  community  of  goods  it  practised.  With 
this  writer,  who  also  composed  the  Third  Gospel,  facts 
are  often  warped  by  theory,^  and  the  tendency  to 
ehionism^ — that  is,  absolute  poverty  —  is  often  strongly 
marked.  Still,  his  account  cannot  be  without  founda- 
tion. Even  if  Jesus  never  uttered  the  communistic  max- 
ims recorded  by  the  third  evangelist,  it  is  certain  that 
the  renunciation  of  this  world's  goods,  and  almsgiving 
carried  to  the  extreme  of  self-denial,  were  perfectly  in 
keeping  with  the  tone  of  his  discourse.     Belief  in  the 

1  In  no  other  literature  is  the  word  "  joy"  so  often  found  as  in  the 
New  Testament.  See  1  Thess.  i.  6 ;  v.  16;  Rom.  xiv.  17;  xv.  13;  Gal. 
V.  22;  Phil.  i.  25 ;  iii.  1 ;  iv.  4 ;  1  John  i.  4,  etc. 

1  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  Introd.  p.  64.  «  Ibid.  p.  211. 


96  THE  APOSTLES. 

near  end  of  the  world  has  always  had  the  effect  to 
promote  disgust  of  wealth  and  a  tendency  to  com- 
munism.^ The  account  in  "  Acts  "  is,  further,  in  perfect 
keeping  with  what  we  know  of  the  origin  of  other 
ascetic  religions,  —  Buddhism,  for  example,  —  which 
always  begin  with  cenobitic  [or  communistic]  life,  their 
first  adepts  being  a  sort  of  mendicant  monks.  A  lay 
body  is  not  apparent  in  such  movements  until  a  later 
period,  or  when  the  religion  has  conquered  an  entire 
political  community,  in  which  monastic  life  is  necessa- 
rily an  exception.^ 

We  find,  then,  a  communistic  period  in  the  history 
of  the  Church  at  Jerusalem.  Even  two  centuries  later, 
pagan  writers*  found  in  Christianity  some  traces  of  a 
communistic  sect.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  Es- 
senes  and  Therapeutae  had  already  given  a  model  of 
this  way  of  life,  which  was  a  quite  legitimate  offshoot 
of  Mosaism.  Since  the  Mosaic  code  was  in  its  essence 
moral  and  not  political,  its  natural  effect  was  to  yield 
a  social  utopia  (the  church,  synagogue,  or  convent),  not 
a  civil  State,  —  the  nation  or  municipality.  Egypt  had 
for  some  centuries  maintained  recluses,  some  of  them 
at  public  expense  (probably  in  administering  of  chari- 
table endowments)  near  the   Serapeum   at   Memphis.* 

^  An  example  [greatly  exaggerated  by  some  historians]  is  found  in 
the  "  legend"  of  the  year  1000,  when  acts  of  donation  to  monasteries,  etc., 
often  began  with  the  formula,  "  Whereas  the  end  of  the  world  draws 
near."     [But  see  Revue  politique  et  litteraire  for  March,  1878.] 

*  See  Hodgson  in  the  Asiatic  Journal  of  the  Society  of  Bengal,  v.  33 
et  seq.  ;  Bumouf,  Introd.  h  Vhist.  de  huddhisme  indien,  1.  278. 

*  As  Lucian,  in  the  Death  of  Peregrinus,  13. 

*  See  papyruses  at  Turin,  London,  and  Paris,  collected  by  Brunet  de 
Presle;  M^m.  sur  le  Serap.  de  Memphis,  Paris,  1852 ;  Egger,  M^m.  d'hist, 
anc.  et  de  philologie,  151 ;  Notices  et  extraits,  xviii.:  ii.  2647-369.  Christian 
asceticism,  it  is  to  be  noted,  originated  in  Egypt. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.  97 

Such  a  life  in  the  East  is  by  no  means  what  it  has  been 
among  Western  peoples.  In  the  East  one  may  well 
enjoy  nature  and  life  without  property  of  any  sort. 
Here  man  is  always  free  because  his  wants  are  few ; 
the  slavery  of  labour  is  unknown.  It  may  well  be 
that  the  communism  of  the  primitive  Church  was  not 
so  rigid  as  we  find  it  in  the  Book  of  Acts.  It  is,  how- 
ever, sure  that  there  was  at  Jerusalem  a  great  brother- 
hood of  poor,  ruled  by  the  apostles,  to  which  donations 
were  sent  from  all  points  where  churches  were  estab- 
lished.^ This  brotherhood  was,  no  doubt,  obliged  to 
establish  very  strict  rules ;  and,  within  a  few  years, 
may  have  been  compelled  to  enforce  its  regulations  by 
terror.  Fearful  memories  remained,  showing  that  the 
mere  fault  of  keeping  back  a  part  of  what  one  gave  to 
the  community  was  regarded  as  a  capital  offence,  and 
was  in  fact  punished  by  death,  as  we  see  in  the  story 
of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  (Acts  v.  1-11). 

The  porches  of  the  Temple,  especially  Solomon's 
Porch,  overlooking  the  valley  of  Kedron,  was  the  usual 
place  of  assembling  for  the  disciples  in  the  daytime,^ 
recalling  as  it  did  the  memory  of  hours  which  Jesus 
had  passed  there.  They  were  little  noticed  in  the  hub- 
bub that  prevailed  about  the  Temple.  The  galleries 
that  made  a  feature  in  the  structure  were  the  seats  of 
numerous  sects  and  schools,  the  scenes  of  endless  dis- 
putes. The  followers  of  Jesus,  too,  must  have  appeared 
as  very  strict  devotees,  for  they  scrupulously  kept  the 
Jewish  observances,  prayed  at  appointed  hours  (iii.  1), 
and  followed  the  precepts  of    the  Law.     They  were 

1  Acts  xi.  29,  30;  xxiv.  17;  Gal.  ii.  10;  Rom.  xv.  26-29;  1  Cor.  xvi. 
1-4  ;  2  Cor.  viii.  ix. 

2  Acts  ii.  46  ;  v.  12. 

7 


98  THE  APOSTLES. 

Jews,  differing  from  the  rest  only  in  the  belief  that  the 
Messiah  had  come  already.  The  majority,  who  knew 
nothing  of  their  peculiar  views,  would  regard  them  as 
a  sect  of  the  Hasidim,  or  "  pious."  To  affiliate  with 
them  did  not  make  one  a  heretic  or  schismatic,  as  we 
see  in  the  case  of  James,  who  continued  to  be  a  pure 
Jew  all  his  life,  any  more  than  one  ceases  to  be  a  Prot- 
estant by  becoming  a  disciple  of  Spener  [the  father  of 
Pietism],  or  a  Catholic  by  joining  the  order  of  St. 
Francis  or  St.  Bruno  [founder  of  the  Carthusian  order]. 
They  were  favourites  of  the  people  because  of  their 
piety,  simplicity,  and  gentleness,^  while  the  aristocrats 
of  the  Temple  would  no  doubt  regard  them  with  dis- 
pleasure. But  the  sect  made  little  noise ;  it  was  left  in 
peace,  safe  in  its  obscurity. 

At  night  the  brethren  would  return  to  their  quarter 
and  partake  of  the  repast,  divided  into  groups  (ii.  46), 
as  a  sign  of  fraternity  and  in  memory  of  their  Master, 
whom  they  always  beheld  as  present  in  the  midst.  The 
master  of  the  feast  broke  the  bread,  blessed  the  cup,^ 
and  passed  it,  as  a  symbol  of  union  in  Jesus.  The  com- 
monest act  of  life  thus  became  the  most  august  and 
sacred.  These  family  feasts,  always  dear  to  the  Jews,^ 
were  accompanied  with  prayers,  pious  ejaculations,  and 
gladness  of  heart.  They  felt  as  if  still  animated  by  the 
presence  of  Jesus,  or  in  very  sight  of  him  ;  and  the  say- 
ing was  early  common  among  them,  that  Jesus  had 
said,  "  Whenever  you  break  bread,  do  it  in  remembrance 
of  me."  *    Even  the  bread  itself  was  a  symbolic  type  of 

1  Actsii.  47;  iv.  33;  v.  13,26. 

2  1  Cor.  X.  16;  Justin,  Apol  i.  65-67. 
'  'S.vvbfiTTva,  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10:  8,  12. 

*  Luke  xxii.  19 ;  1  Cor.  xi.  24-26 ;  Justin,  loc.  cit. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.  99 

him,  regarded  as  the  one  source  of  life  effective  for 
those  who  had  loved  him  and  still  derived  their  life 
from  him.  These  repasts,  which  were  always  the  chief 
symbol  of  Chistianity  and  the  soul  of  its  mysteries,  — 
for  in  the  year  57  the  eucharist  had  (1  Cor.  xi.  17-22) 
become  a  practice  already  old  and  full  of  abuses,  —  at 
first  were  held  every  evening.  Soon,  however,  they 
were  restricted  to  Sunday  evening ;  ^  and,  later,  the  mys- 
tic Supper  was  transferred  to  the  morning.^  At  the 
period  of  time  we  have  now  reached,  Christians  still 
observed  their  chief  festal  rite  on  Saturday.^ 

The  apostles  chosen  by  Jesus,  and  still  held  to  have 
received  from  him  a  special  commission  to  proclaim  the 
divine  kingdom  to  the  world,  held  an  unquestioned  su- 
periority in  the  little  community.  One  of  the  first 
cares,  as  soon  as  the  company  found  themselves  estab- 
lished at  Jerusalem,  was  to  fill  up  the  void  in  the  body 
left  by  Judas  Iscariot  (i.  15-26).  It  came  to  be  a  more 
and  more  general  opinion  that  he  had  betrayed  his 
Master  and  brought  about  his  death.  In  this  belief 
legend  had  its  share,  and  daily  some  new  circumstance 
came  to  light  which  deepened  the  blackness  of  his 
crime.  He  had,  it  was  said,  bought  a  field  near  the  old 
burial-ground  Akeldama,  and  was  living  there  in  seclu- 
sion.* Such  was  the  strained  state  of  mind  in  the  little 
community,  that  to  fill  his  place  they  had  recourse  to 
lot.  This  method  of  decision  is  often  resorted  to  under 
the  stress  of  religious  feeling,  in  the  conviction  that 

*  Acts  XX.  7,  11 ;  Pliny,  Epht.  x.  97;  Justin,  Apol.  L  67. 
2  Justin  (as  above). 

*  The  contrary  cannot  be  shown  from  John  xx.  26.  The  Ebionites 
always  observed  the  Jewish  Sabbath  (Jer.  In  Matt.  xiii.). 

*  See  '«  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  405. 


loo  THE  APOSTLES, 

nothing  happens  by  chance,  that  the  believer  is  himself 
a  special  object  of  Divine  care,  and  that,  the  weaker 
man  is,  the  larger  part  is  left  to  God.  The  only  con- 
dition was  that  the  candidates  should  be  of  the  older 
company  of  disciples,  —  who  had  witnessed  the  whole 
series  of  events  since  the  baptism  of  John,  the  choice 
being  thus  among  a  very  few.  Only  two  were  upon  the 
list,  —  Joseph  Bar-Saba,  called  "the  Just,"  and  Mat- 
thias.^ The  lot  fell  to  the  latter,  who  thereafter  was 
reckoned  among  the  Twelve.  This,  however,  was  the 
only  instance  of  such  a  substitution.  The  apostles  were 
held  to  have  been  appointed  by  Jesus,  once  for  all,  to 
have  no  successors.  A  profound  instinct  averted,  for  a 
time,  the  peril  of  a  permanent  college,  or  commission, 
holding  in  itself  the  life  and  strength  of  the  whole 
body.  It  was  long  before  the  Church  became  thus  re- 
duced within  the  control  of  an  oligarchy. 

We  must  be  on  our  guard,  besides,  against  a  misun- 
derstanding to  which  the  name  "  apostle "  is  liable, 
which  it  has  in  fact  incurred.  In  very  old  time,  partly 
by  certain  passages  of  the  gospels  and  still  more  by  the 
analogies  in  the  life  of  Paul,  the  apostles  were  regarded 
as  essentially  travelling  envoys,  in  a  sense  dividing  the 
world  among  themselves  in  advance,  and  setting  forth 
to  conquer  all  the  earth.^  A  cycle  of  legends  arose 
upon  this  presumption,  and  was  fastened  upon  Christian 
history.^  Nothing  is  more  contrary  to  the  truth.*  The 
Twelve  usually  abode  in  permanence  at  Jerusalem. 
Until  the  year  60,  or  thereabout,  the  apostles  never 
left  that  place  except  for  temporary  missions :  hence  the 
obscurity  in  which  the  majority  of  them   remained. 

*  See  Papias  in  Euseb.  iii.  39.  »  Pseudo-Abdias,  etc. 

«  Justin,  Apol.  i.  39,  50.  *  1  Cor.  xv.  10 ;  Rom.  xv.  19. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.         loi 

Few  of  them  had  any  leading  part.  They  made  a  sort 
of  sacred  college,  or  senate  (Gal.  i.  17,  19),  to  which 
was  intrusted  the  keeping  of  the  conservative  tradition. 
At  length  they  were  relieved  of  all  active  responsi- 
bility, their  only  function  being  to  preach  and  pray 
(Acts  vi.  4),  and  not  even  the  more  effective  share 
in  preaching  fell  to  them.  Their  names  were  hardly 
known  outside  of  Jerusalem ;  and  the  apostolic  lists 
current  in  70  or  80  scarcely  agreed  excepting  as  to  the 
best-known  names.^ 

The  "  brethren  of  Jesus  "  often  appear  in  connection 
with  the  "  apostles,"  though  they  were  quite  distinct 
from  them ;  ^  and  their  authority  was  at  least  equal. 
The  two  groups  formed  a  sort  of  aristocracy  in  the 
body,  grounded  on  their  greater  or  less  intimacy  with 
the  Master.  These  were  the  men  whom  Paul  called 
*'  pillars  "  (Gal.  ii.  9)  of  the  church  at  Jerusalem.  We 
see,  however,  that  ranks  in  the  church  hierarchy  did 
not  yet  exist.  The  title  was  nothing,  personal  impor- 
tance was  all.  Celibacy  in  the  priesthood  already  existed 
in  principle,^  but  time  was  yet  needed  for  its  full  devel- 
opment. Peter  and  Philip  were  married,  and  had  sons 
and  daughters.* 

The  assembly  of  the  faithful  was  called  in  Hebrew 
kaJial,  which  was  rendered  in  Greek  by  the  essentially 
democratic  term  eKKhrqa-ia,  ecdesia,  which  in  the  old 
Greek  cities  signified  the  summons  of  the  people  to  their 
gathering  in  the  Pnyx  or  Agora.     Such  terms,  used 

1  Matt.  X.  2-4 ;  Mark  iii.  16-19 ;  Luke  vi.  14-16 ;  Acts  i.  13. 

2  Acts  i.  14;  Gal.  i.  19;  1  Cor.  ix.  5. 
8  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  307. 

*  See  "Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  187;  Papias  in  Euseb.  iii.  39;  Polycrates, 
ib.  V.  24 ;   Clem.  Alex.  Strom,  iii.  6,  vii.  11. 


102  THE  APOSTLES. 

by  the  Athenian  democracy,  had  come,  since  the  second 
or  third  century  B.  C,  to  be  of  a  certain  common  right 
in  the  Hellenic  tongue;  some  of  them  —  as  eVwr/coTro? 
{bishop),  and  perhaps  KXrjpos  {lot,  clergy)}  were  adopted 
in  Christian  use  through  their  employment  by  Greek 
fraternities.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  mode  of  popular  life, 
restrained  for  centuries,  which  thus  resumed  its  course 
under  other  forms.  The  primitive  Church  was,  in  its 
way,  a  petty  democracy.  It  resumes  all  the  old  demo- 
cratic forms,  even  the  election  by  lot,  so  dear  to  the 
ancient  republics.^  It  was,  however,  far  less  harsh  and 
jealous  than  those,  readily  delegating  its  authority  to 
its  chosen  officers.  It  tended,  like  all  theocratic  asso- 
ciations, to  leave  all  power  with  the  clergy ;  and,  as 
might  easily  be  seen,  within  a  century  or  two  this  new 
democracy  was  sure  to  grow  into  an  oligarchy. 

The  power  conferred  on  the  assembled  Church  and  on 
its  leaders  was  very  great.  Every  mission  was  by 
Church  appointment,  and  was  subject  only  to  indica- 
tions given  by  the  Spirit.^  Its  authority  extended  even 
to  passing  the  death-sentence.  At  the  word  of  Peter, 
it  is  related  (Acts  v.  1-11),  the  guilty  had  been  known 
to  have  fallen  and  died  upon  the  spot.  A  little  later 
Paul  does  not  flinch,  in  judgment  of  one  guilty  of  in- 
cest, "to  deliver  him  to  Satan  for  the  death  of  the 
body,"  while  hoping  that  "  his  spirit  may  be  saved  in 
the  great  day  of  the  Lord  "  (1  Cor.  v.  3-5).  Excom- 
munication was  held  equivalent  to  a  sentence  of  death. 
It  was  not  doubted  that  one  whom  the  apostles  or  heads 
of  the  Church  had  cut  off  from  the  body  of  the  saints 

*  See  Wescher,  in  Revue  Archeol.  for  April,  1866,  and  below,  p.  287. 
»  Acts  i.  26 ;  and  below,  p.  353. 

•  Acts  xiii.  1-5 ;  Clem.  Alex,  in  Euseb.  iii.  23. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.         103 

and  given  over  to  the  power  of  the  Evil  One  (1  Tim.  i. 
20)  would  perish.  Satan  was  regarded  as  the  author 
of  disease ;  and  to  give  up  to  him  a  gangrened  limb 
was  to  give  it  over  to  the  fit  executioner  of  the  sen- 
tence. An  untimely  death  was  commonly  supposed  to 
be  the  effect  of  these  secret  sentences,  which,  in  the 
strong  Hebrew  expression,  "  cut  off  a  soul  from  his 
people"  (Gen.  xvii.  14).^  The  apostles  believed  them- 
selves to  be  endowed  with  superhuman  rights.  In 
pronouncing  condemnation,  they  thought  that  their 
anathema  could  not  fail  to  be  followed  by  the  effect. 

The  terrible  impression  caused  by  excommunication, 
and  the  universal  hate  felt  towards  the  members  thus 
cut  off,  might,  in  fact,  bring  about  their  death  in  many 
cases,  or  at  least  force  the  excommunicated  person  into 
exile.  The  same  dreadful  double  meaning  is  found  in 
the  ancient  Law  :  to  extirpate  (or  "  root  out ")  might 
imply  either  death  or  expulsion  from  the  community, 
exile  or  a  solitary  and  mysterious  deed  of  violence  ;  as 
"  to  exterminate  "  is  in  its  first  meaning  "  to  put  be- 
yond the  bounds."^  To  kill  the  apostate  or  blasphemer, 
to  strike  the  body  so  as  to  save  the  soul,  must  seem 
quite  legitimate.  We  must  remember  that  we  are  in 
the  age  of  Zealots,  who  considered  it  an  act  of  virtue 
to  stab  any  one  faithless  to  the  Law ;  ^  and  that  some 
of  the  Christians  were  or  had  been  Zealots.*  Stories 
like  that  of  the  death  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  (Acts  v. 

1  See  Mishna  Kerithouth,  i.  1 ;  Babyl.  Talm.  Moed  katon,  28  a ;  TertuU. 
De  anima,  57. 

2  See  the  Hebi:ew  or  Rabbinic  lexicon  at  the  word  niD,  to  cut  off. 

'  Mishna,  Sanhedrin,  ix.  6;  John  xvi.  2 ;  Jos.  War,  vii.  8 :  1;  3  Mace, 
(apocr.),  vii.  8,  12,  13  [Compare  Balfour  of  Burley,  in  Scott's  "  Old 
Mortality."] 

*  Luke  vi.  15;  Acts  i.  13  ;  comp.  Matt.  x.  4;  Mark  iii.  18. 


I04  THE  APOSTLES. 

1-11)  or  the  blinding  of  Elymas  the  sorcerer  (w?.  xiii 
9-11)  would  stir  no  scruple.  The  idea  of  civil  power 
was  so  strange  to  this  community  outside  of  Roman 
Law,  — such  was  the  persuasion  which  held  the  Church 
to  be  a  social  order,  complete  and  self-sufficient,  —  that 
no  one  saw  in  a  miracle  entailing  death  or  mutilation 
an  act  punishable  by  public  authority.  Enthusiasm 
and  an  ardent  faith  screened  all,  excused  all.  But  the 
frightful  danger  to  the  future  hidden  in  these  theocratic 
maxims  is  easy  to  detect.  When  the  Church  is  armed 
with  a  sword,  excommunication  becomes  a  sentence  of 
death.  Henceforth  there  is  a  power  outside  the  State, 
which  disposes  of  the  citizen's  life.  Roman  authority 
would  surely  have  been  in  the  right,  if  it  had  restrained 
itself  to  holding  such  criminal  principles  in  check  among 
Jews  and  Christians.  Only,  in  the  brutal  exercise  of 
power,  it  confounded  the  liberty  of  worship,  the  most 
rightful  of  liberties,  with  abuses  which  no  political 
society  can  endure  with  impunity. 

Peter  seems  to  have  had  a  certain  leadership  among 
the  apostles  in  virtue  of  his  zeal  and  activity.^  At  first 
he  is  hardly  to  be  found  apart  from  John  the  son  of 
Zebedee.  They  almost  always  went  together,^  and  their 
close  union  was  doubtless  a  corner-stone  of  the  new 
faith.  James,  the  Lord's  brother,  almost  equalled  them 
in  authority,  at  least  with  a  portion  of  the  Church. 
Certain  near  friends  of  Jesus,  as  the  Galilaean  women 
and  the  family  of  Bethany,  disappear  from  our  account, 
as  I  have  already  said.  These  faithful  women,  less  care- 
ful of  organisation  and  outward  form,  were  content  to 
mourn  as  dead  him  whom  they  had  loved  while  living. 

»  Acts  i.  15;  ii.  14,  37 ;  v.  3,  29;  Gal.  i.  18 ;  ii.  8. 

2  Acts  iii.  1-11;  viii.  14;  Gal.  ii.  9;  comp.  John  xx.  2-8;  xxi.  20-23. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.         105 

Devoted  to  their  waiting  hope,  those  noble  women,  who 
created  the  world's  faith  [in  a  resurrection],  were 
almost  unknown  among  the  men  of  authority  in  Jeru- 
salem. When  they  died,  some  of  the  most  significant 
traits  of  early  Christian  history  went  to  the  grave  with 
them.  The  active  agents  in  a  great  movement  alone 
survive  in  the  world's  memory ;  those  content  to  love 
in  secret  remain  unknown,  but  surely  they  have  chosen 
the  better  part. 

This  little  group  of  simple  folk,  it  is  needless  to  say, 
had  no  speculative  theology.  Jesus  had  wisely  held 
aloof  from  philosophic  theory.  He  had  but  one  dogma, 
—  his  own  divine  sonship  and  mission.  The  entire 
creed  of  the  primitive  Church  can  be  summed  up  in  one 
line :  "  Jesus  is  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God."  This 
creed  rested  on  one  peremptory  argument,  "Jesus  is 
risen  from  the  dead,"  of  which  fact  the  disciples  pro- 
fessed themselves  to  be  witnesses.  In  strictness,  no 
one,  not  even  the  women  of  Galilee,  claimed  to  have 
seen  the  resurrection}  But  the  absence  of  the  body,  with 
the  apparitions  that  ensued,  amounted  in  the  believer's 
view  to  the  same  thing.  The  task  specially  imposed 
upon  all  alike  was  to  attest  the  resurrection  as  a  fact.^ 
And  it  soon  came  to  be  the  belief  that  Jesus  had  himself 
foretold  the  event.  Various  words  were  recalled,  sup- 
posed to  have  been  misunderstood,  which  were  after- 

^  In  Matt,  xxviii.  1-4,  the  guard  at  the  sepulchre  would  appear  to  have 
witnessed  the  descent  of  the  angel  who  drew  away  the  stone.  This  very 
perplexed  account  would  imply,  but  does  not  say,  that  the  women  also 
witnessed  it.  Neither,  according  to  the  narrative,  saw  the  rising  Jesus, 
but  only  the  angel.  This  unsupported  and  inconsistent  account  is  clearly 
the  latest  of  all. 

2  Luke  xxiv.  48;  Acts  i.  22;  ii.  32;  iii.  15;  iv.  33;  v.  32;  x.  41;  xiii. 
80,  31. 


io6  THE  APOSTLES. 

wards  seen  to  be  a  prophecy  of  it/  There  was  uni- 
versal belief  in  his  speedy  glorious  return.  The  watch- 
word among  the  disciples,  by  which  they  were  to  know 
and  strengthen  one  another,  was  Maran  atJm,  a  Syro- 
Chaldaic  phrase,  meaning  "  the  Lord  cometh  "  (1  Cor. 
xvi.  22).  A  saying  of  Jesus  was  thought  to  be  recalled, 
a  promise  that  his  message  should  not  have  been  de- 
clared in  all  the  cities  of  Israel  before  the  reappearance 
of  the  Son  of  Man  in  his  kingdom  (Matt.  x.  23). 
Meanwhile  he  is  risen  and  seated  at  the  right  hand  of 
his  Father.  Here  he  rests  until  the  solemn  day  when 
he  will  come,  seated  on  the  clouds,  to  judge  the  living 
and  the  dead.     (Acts  ii.  33,  34  ;  x.  42.) 

Their  idea  of  Jesus  was  that  given  them  by  himself, 
—  "  that  he  was  a  prophet  mighty  in  deed  and  word  " 
(Luke  xxiv.  19),  a  man  chosen  by  God,  who  received  a 
special  message  for  humanity  (Acts  ii.  22),  which  he 
proved  by  his  miracles,  and  above  all  by  his  resurrec- 
tion. God  anointed  him  with  the  Holy  Spirit  and 
endowed  him  with  power;  he  spent  his  life  in  doing 
good  and  in  healing  those  under  the  power  of  Satan 
(the  author  of  every  malady),  for  God  was  with  him 
(Acts  X.  38).  He  is  the  Son  of  God ;  that  is,  a  man 
perfectly  divine,  representing  God  upon  the  earth  ;  he 
is  the  Messiah,  the  deliverer  of  Israel,  foretold  by  the 
prophets.^  Reading  from  the  Old  Testament,  especially 
the  Prophets  and  the  Psalms,  was  a  constant  practice 
with  them.  The  ancient  books,  they  thought,  were  full 
of  him  ;  thus  in  the  reading  they  had  one  fixed  idea, 
which  was  to  find  everywhere  the  type  of  Jesus.  From 
the  very  first,  there  was  made  a  collection  of  texts, 

^  See  note,  page  1,  above. 

«  Acts  ii.  36;  viii.  37 ;  ix.  22 ;  xvii.  3,  4. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.         107 

taken  from  the  Prophets,  Psalms,  and  some  apocryphal 
books,  in  which,  as  they  were  convinced,  the  life  of 
Jesiis  was  foretold  and  portrayed.^  This  arbitrary  style 
of  interpretation  was  that  of  all  the  Jewish  schools. 
The  messianic  allusions  were  a  sort  of  play  of  wit,  like 
the  use  which  old-school  preachers  used  to  make  of 
Bible  texts,  wholly  turned  from  the  natural  meaning, 
and  treated  as  mere  ornaments  of  sacred  rhetoric. 

Jesus,  with  his  healthy  sense  in  religious  matters,  had 
founded  no  new  ritual.  The  new  sect  had  no  distin- 
guishing ceremonial  (Jas.  i.  26,  27).  Its  pious  practices 
were  those  of  other  Jews.  Its  meetings  had  nothing 
properly  liturgical ;  they  were  sessions  of  a  brother- 
hood, given  to  prayer  or  the  "  speaking  with  tongues," 
to  interpreting  of  prophecy,^  and  reading  of  correspon- 
dence. There  is  no  priest  {cohen,  or  te/aev?)  ;  the  pres- 
byter is  simply  the  "  elder  "  of  the  company.  The  only 
priest  is  Jesus ;  ^  in  another  sense,  all  the  faithful  are 
priests.^  Fasting  was  held  to  be  a  practice  of  high 
merit ;  ^  baptism  was  the  sign  of  admission  to  the 
body,*^ — the  rite  being  that  of  John,  administered  in 
the  name  of  Jesus.'^  Still,  it  was  held  to  be  an  imperfect 
initiation,  and  should  be  followed  by  conferring  gifts  of 
the  Spirit  (Acts  viii.  16  ;  x.  47) ;  which  was  done  by 
means  of  a  prayer  by  the  apostles,  with  laying  of  hands 
on  the  candidate's  head. 

*  Acts  ii.  14  ;  iii.  12  ;  iv.  8,  25 ;  vii.  2  ;  x.  43;  with  the  socalled  epistle 
of  Barnabas. 

2  These  exercises  are  called  "  ministering  to  the  Lord"  (KtiTovpyelv)  in 
Acts  xiii.  2. 

8  Heb.  V.  6;  vi.  20 ;  viii.  4 ;  x.  11. 

*  Rev.  i.  6;  V.  10;  xx.  6. 

*  Acts  xiii.  2  ;  Luke  ii.  37. 

*  Rom.  vi.  4-6.  '  Acts  viii.  12,  16;  x.  48. 


io8  THE  APOSTLES. 

The  laying  on  of  hands,  already  so  familiar  to  Jesus,-^ 
was  the  especially  sacramental  act.^  It  was  held  to  con- 
fer inspiration,  inner  light,  the  power  of  working  won- 
ders, of  prophesying,  and  of  speaking  with  tongues.  It 
was  called  the  baptism  of  the  Spirit,  according  to  the 
saying  of  Jesus,  "  John  baptised  you  with  water,  but 
you  shall  be  baptised  with  the  Spirit."  ^  In  course  of 
time  these  several  ideas  were  combined,  and  baptism 
was  bestowed  "  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost  "  (Matt,  xxviii.  19).  But  this  formula  was 
not,  probably,  used  in  the  early  days  of  which  we  speak. 
The  simplicity  of  the  primitive  Christian  ritual  is  ap- 
parent, constructed  as  it  was  neither  by  Jesus  nor  by 
his  apostles.  Certain  Jewish  sects  before  them  had 
adopted  these  grave  and  solemn  ceremonies,  which  seem 
to  have  come  in  part  from  Chaldaea,  where  they  are  still 
practised,  with  special  rites,  by  the  Sabaeans  or  Men- 
daites.*  Many  such  rites  are  associated  with  the  relig- 
ion of  Persia.^ 

The  popular  beliefs  as  to  medical  treatment,  which 
aided  the  work  of  Jesus,  remained  with  the  disciples. 
The  "gift  of  healing"  was  one  of  the  marvellous 
powers  conferred  by  the  Spirit.^  Like  most  Jews  of 
their  time,  the  primitive  Christians  regarded   disease 

1  Matt.  ix.  18;  xix,  13,  15;  Mark  v.  23;  vi.  5;  vii.  32;  viii.  23,  25; 
X.  16 ;  Luke  iv.  50 ;  xiii.  13. 

2  Acts  vi.  6;  viii.  17-19;  ix.  12,  17;  xiii.  3;  xiv.  6;  xxviii.  8 ;  1  Tim. 
iv.  14  ;  V.  22 ;  2  Tim.  i.  6 ;  Heb.  vi.  2  ;  Jas.  v.  13. 

8  Matt.  iii.  11 ;  Mark  i.  8;  Luke  iii.  16;  John  i.  26 ;  Acts  i.  5;  xi.  16, 
xix.  4. 

*  Cholastd  (Sabsean  MSS.),  8, 10,  11,  13. 

6  Vendidad-Sad^,  viii.  296;  ix.  1-145;  vi.  18,  19;  Spiegel,  Amsta, 
ii.  83. 

«  1  Cor.  xii.  9,  28,  30. 


THE  PRIMITIVE  CHURCH  A    COMMUNITY.         109 

as  the  punishment  of  sin,^  or  else  the  act  of  harmful 
spirits  (daemons).^  The  apostles,  like  Jesus,  were  looked 
on  as  potent  exorcists  (Acts  v.  16;  xix.  12-18).  It  was 
believed  that  anointing  with  oil  done  by  them,  with 
laying-on  of  hands  and  calling  upon  the  name  of  Jesus, 
were  all-powerful  to  remove  the  sin  that  had  caused  the 
malady,  and  to  heal  the  patient.^  Oil  has  always  been 
the  remedy  chiefly  relied  on  in  the  East  (Luke  x.  34). 
The  mere  laying-on  of  the  apostles'  hands  was  thought 
to  have  the  like  effect.*  This  was  done  by  direct  touch. 
In  some  cases,  it  is  possible  that  the  warmth  of  the 
hands,  when  briskly  applied  to  the  head,  brought  some 
slight  relief  to  the  sufferer. 

As  the  sect  was  yet  new  and  small  in  numbers,  ques- 
tions regarding  death  did  not  come  up  till  later.  The 
effect  caused  by  the  first  deaths  among  the  brethren 
was  singular.^  Great  solicitude  was  felt  for  the  fate  of 
the  departed ;  the  question  arose  whether  they  were 
less  favoured  than  those  who  were  kept  alive  to  behold 
with  their  own  eyes  the  advent  of  the  Son  of  Man. 
The  interval  between  death  and  resurrection  came  to 
be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  void  in  the  consciousness  of 
the  deceased.^  The  idea  conveyed  in  Plato's  Phoedo  — 
that  the  soul  exists  before  [birth]  and  after  death,  and 
that  death  is  a  gain,  even  a  peculiarly  philosophic  state, 

1  Matt.  ix.  2 ;  Mark  ii.  5 ;  John  v.  14  ;  ix.  2 ;  Jas.  v.  15 ;  Mishna,  Shab- 
bath,  ii.  6;  Bab.  Talm.  Nedarim,  41a. 

2  Matt.  ix.  33;  xii.  22  ;  Mark  ix.  16,  24;  Luke  xi.  14;  Acts  xix.  12; 
Tert.  Apol.  22 ;  Adv.  Marc.  iv.  8. 

'  Jas.  V.  14,  15;  Mark  vi.  13. 

*  Mark  xvi.  18;  Acts  xxviii.  8. 

6  1  Thess.  iv.  13-18;  1  Cor.  xv.  12-22. 

*  Phil.  i.  23,  seems  to  express  a  different  view;  but  see  1  Thess,  iv.  14- 
17;  Rev.  XX.  4-6. 


110 


THE  APOSTLES. 


since  the  soul  is  then  ransomed  and  free  [from  the  ills 
of  mortality]  —  was  not  at  all  defined  among  the  early 
Christians.  It  would  seem  that,  in  general,  man  in 
their  view  did  not  exist  without  a  body.  This  view 
was  long  held,  and  did  not  give  way  until  the  doctrine 
of  immortality  in  the  Greek  philosophic  sense  had  been 
adopted  in  the  Church,  and  associated,  for  better  or 
worse,  with  the  Christian  dogma  of  a  resurrection  and 
universal  renewal  [of  life].^  Burial  rites  were  no  doubt 
performed  in  the  Jewish  manner;  but  no  importance 
was  attached  to  them,  and  no  inscription  recorded  the 
name  of  the  deceased.  The  general  resurrection  was 
at  hand ;  the  body  would  have  but  a  short  repose  in  its 
rocky  bed.  The  question  was  not  much  mooted  whether 
the  resurrection  would  be  strictly  universal,  of  the  good 
and  bad  together,  or  whether  the  elect  alone  would  be 
raised.^ 

One  of  the  most  striking  things  in  the  new  religion 
was  the  revival  of  prophecy.  For  a  long  time  such  a 
thing  had  hardly  been  spoken  of  as  the  existence  of 
prophets  in  Israel.  This  particular  form  of  inspiration 
seemed  to  spring  up  anew  in  the  little  sect.  The  prim- 
itive Church  had  many  prophets  and  prophetesses,^  like 
those  in  the  Old  Testament.  Psalmists  also  reappeared. 
The  model  of  Christian  hymns  is  probably  shown  by 


^  Paul,  as  above  and  in  Phil.  iii.  11 ;  Rev.  chap.  xx. ;  Papias  (Euseb. 
iii.  39).  A  different  view  is  indicated  in  Luke  xvi.  22-31  [Dives  in  the 
place  of  torment]  and  xxiii.  43-46  [the  thief  on  the  cross].  But  these  are 
InsuflBcient  evidence  as  to  the  Jewish  theology.  The  Essenes  had  already 
adopted  the  Greek  view  of  the  soul's  essential  immortality. 

'^  Acts  xxiv.  15;  1  Thess.  iv.  13-17;  Phil,  iii,  11;  comp.  Rev.  xx.  5. 
See  Leblant,  Inscr.  chret.  de  la  Gaule,  ii.  81  et  seq. 

«  Acts  xi.  27-30;  xiii.  1;  xv.  32;  xxi.  9,  10,  11;  1  Cor.  xii.  28-30; 
xiv,  29-37  ;  Eph.  iii.  5;  iv.  11 ;  Rev.  i.  3;  xvi,  6 ;  xviii.  20,  24;  xxii.  9. 


THE  PRIMITIVE   CHURCH  A   COMMUNITY.         in 

the  examples  given  in  the  first  two  chapters  of  Luke, 
which  are  moulded  upon  the  Old  Testament  canticles. 
In  form,  these  hymns  and  prophecies  offer  nothing  new, 
but  they  are  marked  by  a  fine  sweetness  of  spirit,  and 
by  a  living  and  penetrating  piety  —  as  it  were,  a  soft- 
ened echo  of  the  later  products  of  the  sacred  lyre  of 
Israel.  The  Book  of  Psalms  may  be  called  the  chalice 
of  the  flower  whence  the  Christian  bee  sipped  its  first 
draught  of  honey.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Pentateuch 
would  seem  to  have  been  little  read  or  studied ;  in  place 
of  it  we  find  allegories  of  the  type  of  the  Jewish  mid- 
rashim,  discarding  all  historic  sense. 

The  singing  that  accompanied  the  new  psalmody^ 
was  probably  that  monotone  of  ejaculation,  without  dis- 
tinct notes,  which  we  still  find  among  the  Greeks  and 
Maronites,  and  in  the  oriental  churches  generally, — the 
identity  of  method  in  separate  religious  communities 
testifying  to  its  antiquity.  It  is  not  so  much  a  musi- 
cal modulation  as  a  way  of  forcing  the  voice  and  ut- 
tering a  sort  of  nasal  moan,  diversified  by  the  rapid 
sequence  of  various  inflections.  This  strange  musical 
utterance  is  delivered  standing,  with  fixed  gaze,  wrinkled 
forehead,  knitted  brow,  and  apparent  effort.  The  word 
"Amen,"  in  particular,  is  spoken  with  a  quavering  voice, 
as  if  in  a  shiver.  This  word  is  very  conspicuous  in  the 
Eastern  liturgies.  Like  the  Jews,^  the  new  believers 
employed  it  to  mark  the  assent  of  the  crowd  to  the 
word  of  the  prophet  or  precentor.^  Some  secret  efficacy 
may  have  been  already  ascribed  to  it,  and  it  was  spoken 

1  Acts  xvi.  25;  1  Cor.  xiv.  15;  Col.  iii.  16;  Eph.  v.  19;  Jas.  v.  13. 

2  Num.  V.  22;  Deut.  xxvii.  15;  Ps.  cvi.  48;  1  Chr.  xvi.  36;  Neh.  v.  13; 
viii.  6. 

•  1  Cor.  xvi.  16 ;  Justin,  Apol.  i.  65,  67. 


112  THE  APOSTLES. 

with  a  certain  emphasis.  Was  this  earliest  ecclesiasti- 
cal chant  accompanied  by  instruments?  We  do  not 
know.  The  passage  which  speaks  of  "  pipes  or  harps  " 
(1  Cor.  xiv.  7),  or  the  verb  "to  touch"  the  string 
(</;aXXeti/,  rendered  "  sing,"  id.  15),  is  not  decisive.  That 
inward  song  called  "  singing  in  the  heart  "  (Eph.  v.  19  ; 
Col.  iii.  16),  which  was  but  the  overflow  of  these  ten- 
der, ardent,  and  dreamy  souls,  was  doubtless  uttered  in 
a  low  murmur,  like  the  songs  of  the  Lollards  of  the 
Middle  Age.^  In  general,  such  hymns  were  the  out- 
pouring of  joy ;  thus  we  find  the  exhortation  of  James 
(v.  13),  "  Is  any  among  you  afflicted  ?  let  him  pray.  Is 
any  merry  ?  let  him  sing  "  (i/zaXXera)). 

This  first  Christian  literature  was  intended  purely 
for  the  edification  of  the  assembled  brethren,  and  was 
not  written.  The  idea  of  composing  books  had  as  yet 
occurred  to  no  one.  Jesus  had  spoken :  his  disciples 
gathered  up  and  treasured  his  words.  Had  he  not  prom- 
ised that  the  generation  of  those  who  heard  him  would 
not  have  passed  away  before  he  should  reappear  ?  ^ 

1  Du  Cange  s.  v.  LoUardi  [Century  Dictionary,  Lollards'] ;  comp.  songs 
of  the  Cevennes :  Avertissemens  proph.  d'Elie  Marion  (Lend.  1707),  10, 
12,  14. 

2  Matt.  XV.  28;  xxiv.  34;  Mark  viii.  39 ;  xiii.  30 ;  Luke  ix.  27 ;  xxi.  32. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JEWISH   CONVERTS   AND   PROSELYTES.  —  A.  D.  36. 

Hitherto  the  Church  at  Jerusalem  has  appeared  as  a 
little  Galilaean  colony.  The  friends  of  Jesus  dwelling 
at  or  near  Jerusalem  —  Lazarus,  Martha  and  Mary  of 
Bethany,  Joseph  of  Arimathaea,  Nicodemus  —  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  scene.  The  Galilaean  group  alone, 
gathered  close  about  the  Twelve,  remain  united  and 
active.  These  disciples  were  continually  zealous  in  the 
propagation  of  the  gospel.  Later,  after  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  and  at  a  distance  from  Judaea,  the  dis- 
courses of  the  apostles  were  represented  as  public 
scenes,  taking  place  in  open  squares,  in  the  presence 
of  crowds.  Such  an  idea  must  probably  be  put  among 
the  conventional  images  in  which  legend  abounds.  The 
authorities  that  had  put  Jesus  to  death  would  never 
have  allowed  such  scenes  of  disturbance  to  be  renewed. 
The  faith  was  spread  mostly  through  the  influence  of 
conversations,  which  "  daily  in  the  Temple  and  in  every 
house  "  (Acts  v.  42)  communicated  the  sacred  warmth 
from  soul  to  soul.  Preachings  in  Solomon's  Porch  would 
be  addressed  to  little  groups,  but  would  have  all  the 
deeper  effect.  They  consisted  chiefly  of  citations  from 
the  Old  Testament,  intended  to  prove  that  Jesus  was 
the  Messiah,  as  we  see  by  the  examples  in  the  early 
chapters  of  Acts  (as  ii.  29-36).  The  reasoning  was 
thin-spun  and  weak,  but  this  was  like  all  the  Jewish 


114  THE  APOSTLES. 

expositions  of  that  date :  it  was  quite  as  good  as  that 
which  the  rabbis  of  the  Mishna  drew  from  Bible  texts. 

Still  weaker  was  the  evidence  of  asserted  prodigies 
alleged  to  sustain  these  arguments.  We  cannot  doubt 
that  the  apostles  really  believed  that  they  wrought 
miracles,  which  would  pass  as  the  proofs  of  their  divine 
mission.*  Paul  himself,  by  far  the  ripest  intelligence 
of  the  first  Christian  school,  believed  that  he  wrought 
them.^  It  was  regarded  as  certain  that  Jesus  had 
done  the  same.  The  series  of  such  divine  manifes- 
tations would  naturally  continue.  Thaumaturgy  (won- 
der-working) is,  in  fact,  a  special  prerogative  of  the 
apostles  until  the  end  of  the  first  century  (Acts  v.  12- 
16) :  the  Book  of  Acts  is  full  of  miracles,  and  the  revi- 
val of  Eutychus  (xx.  7-12)  was  doubtless  told  by  an 
eye-witness.^  These  miracles  are  of  the  same  sort  with 
those  of  Jesus,  and  consisted  chiefly,  but  not  exclu- 
sively, of  the  healing  of  sickness  and  exorcism  of  the 
possessed.  Both  Jewish  and  Christian  exorcism  were 
regarded,  even  by  pagans,  as  genuine.*  It  is  related 
(Acts  V.  15)  that  the  mere  shadow  of  Peter  was  effica- 
cious for  miraculous  cures.  These  prodigies  were  held 
to  be  the  regular  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  like  the  gift 
of  knowledge,  preaching,  or  prophecy.^  In  the  third 
century,  the  Church  still  held  itself  to  possess  the  same 
endowment,  and,  as  a  sort  of  permanent  right,  to  exert 
the  power  of  healing  the  sick,  driving  out  demons,  and 

1  1  Cor.  i.  22;  ii.  4,  5;  2  Cor.  xii.  12;  1  Thess.  i.  5;  2  Thess.  ii.  9; 
Gal.  iii.  5;  Rom.  xv.  18,  19. 

a  Rom.  XV.  19;  2  Cor.  xii.  12;  1  Thess.  i.  5. 

'  See  also  chap,  xxviii.,  and  Papias  in  Euseb.,  ili.  39. 

*  See  Damascius,  Life  of  Isidore,  56. 

*  1  Cor.  xii.  9,  28  ;  also  Apostol.  Constit.  viii.  1. 


JEWISH  CONVERTS  AND  PROSELYTES.  115 

predicting  the  future.*  Ignorance  made  anything 
of  the  sort  credible.  Even  in  our  own  day,  we  see 
worthy  people,  lacking  in  scientific  knowledge,  con- 
tinually deceived  by  chimeras  of  magnetism  and  the 
like  ;  while  to  the  Mormons  miracles  are  an  every-day 
matter  —  every  one  works  them.^ 

We  should  not  judge  of  the  means  of  conversion  in 
the  early  Church  by  these  natural  errors,  or  by  the 
feeble  discourses  of  the  Book  of  Acts.  The  true  pro- 
clamation of  the  word  was  in  the  private  conversations 
of  these  excellent  and  fully  convinced  men ;  it  was  in 
the  echo  of  the  words  of  Jesus,  still  audible  in  their 
discourses ;  it  was,  above  all,  in  the  sweetness  of  their 
piety.  The  attraction  of  the  communal  life  they  led 
was  also  a  source  of  much  strength.  Their  home  was 
like  an  asylum,  where  all  the  poor  and  forsaken  might 
find  shelter  and  help. 

One  of  the  first  who  united  with  the  infant  commu- 
nity was  a  man  of  Cyprus  named  Joseph  Hallevi  (the 
Levite).  This  man,  like  the  others,  sold  his  field  and 
brought  the  price  to  lay  it  at  the  feet  of  the  Twelve. 
He  was  a  man  of  intelligence,  proof  against  every 
trial,  and  ready  of  speech.  The  apostles  won  his  close 
attachment,  and  called  him  Bar  naba,  that  is,  "  the  son 
of  prophecy,"  or  "  of  exhortation  "  (Acts  iv.  36,  37 ; 
XV.  32).  He  was  reckoned,  indeed,  among  the  prophets 
(xiii.  1),  that  is,  inspired  preachers.  Hereafter  we  shall 
find  him  playing  an  important  part ;  and,  after  Paul 
himself,  he  was  the  most  active  missionary  of  the  first 

1  Iren.  Adv.  licer.  ii.  23  :  4  ;  v.  6  :  1  ;  Tert.  Apol.  23,  43  ;  Ad  Scap.  2; 
De  corona,  11;  De  sped.  24;  De  anima,  57;  Const.  Apost.  viii.  1,  taken 
apparently  from  the  Charismata  of  Hippolytus. 

2  Jules  Remy,  Voy.  au  pays  des  Mormons,  i.  140,  192,  259,  260 ;  ii.  53. 


ii6  THE  APOSTLES. 

century.  One  Mnason,  his  fellow-countryman,  was 
converted  at  the  same  time  with  him  (xxi.  16).  Cyprus 
had  many  Jewish  colonies ;  ^  both  Barnabas  and  Mnason 
were  of  Jewish  blood,  as  we  see  in  the  case  of  Barnabas 
from  his  name  "  Levite,"  while  Mnason  seems  to  be  the 
translation  of  some  Hebrew  name  having  the  root 
zacar,  perhaps  Zachariah.  The  close  and  long-continued 
relations  of  Barnabas  with  the  church  at  Jerusalem 
incline  us  to  think  that  he  was  familiar  with  the  Syro- 
Chaldaic  tongue. 

An  acquisition  almost  as  important  as  that  of  Barna- 
bas was  that  of  a  certain  John,  who  had  the  Roman 
surname  of  Mark  (Marcm),  a  cousin  of  Barnabas,  "  of 
the  circumcision"  (Col.  iv.  11).  His  mother,  Mary,  was 
in  easy  circumstances,  a  convert  like  her  son,  occupying 
a  house  which  was  more  than  once  a  place  of  meeting 
for  the  apostles.^    These  two  conversions  seem  to  have 

^  Jos.  Antiq.  xiii.  10  : 4;  xvii.  12:1,  2;  Philo,  Leg.  ad  Caium,  26. 

^  Among  the  places  of  their  private  gathering  (see  Acts  xii.  12)  was 
the  house  of  one  Mary,  the  mother  of  Mark.  This  young  disciple  was 
then,  as  we  may  imagine  him,  an  eager  and  intelligent  boy,  considerably 
under  twenty,  —  most  probably,  the  "young  man  "  who,  catching  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  triumphal  entrance  from  Bethany,  had  hovered  near 
the  disciples  down  to  the  arrest  of  Jesus,  when  the  pursuers  caught  him 
by  his  linen  garment,  and  he  "  fled  from  them  naked,"  as  he  tells  the  tale 
himself  (Mark  xiv.  52).  We  take  good  heed  of  this  young  man,  thus 
visibly  brought  before  us,  who  will  prove  an  important  actor  in  many  a 
scene  of  the  history  that  follows.  Listening  eagerly  to  the  incidents  and 
memories  reported  there,  —  impressed  especially  (as  we  find  from  many 
a  hint  in  the  later  narrative)  by  the  vigorous  personality  of  Peter  and 
the  sober  force  of  character  in  the  elder  James,  —  it  is  not  long  before 
he  begins  to  put  together,  in  a  plain,  artless,  and  irregular  fashion  of  his 
own,  the  fragments  of  a  connected  account  of  that  wondrous  Ministry  ; 
and  so,  within  six  or  eight  years  of  the  events  related,  we  find  already 
composed  the  original  sketch  of  what,  in  the  course  of  two  later  recen- 
sions, became  our  present  "  Gospel  according  to  Mark."  See  Unitarian 
Review,  September,  1891,  p.  226,  notice  of  Das  Urevangelium^  etc.  (Ernst 
Solger,  Jena,  1890,  pp.  129.)  —  Ed. 


JEWISH  CONVERTS  AND  PROSELYTES.  117 

been  the  work  of  Peter ;  ^  at  least  he  was  on  terms  of 
intimacy  with  both  mother  and  son,  and  was  at  home 
in  their  house.^  Even  if  this  John  Mark  was  not  the 
writer  of  the  Second  Gospel,  he  filled  an  important 
place ;  since  the  name  Mark,  not  being  common  among 
the  Jews,  probably  refers  to  him  wherever  it  occurs. 
We  shall  meet  him  later,  as  the  companion  of  Paul,  Bar- 
nabas, and  probably  Peter,  in  their  apostolic  journeys. 

Thus  the  flame  of  the  new  faith  spread  fast.  Men 
of  chief  mark  in  the  apostolic  period  were  almost 
all  won  over  in  the  first  two  or  three  years,  as  it  were 
by  a  common  impulse.  It  was  a  second  Christian  gen- 
eration, appearing  side  by  side  with  that  which  had 
gathered,  five  or  six  years  before,  about  the  Lake  of 
Tiberias,  These  younger  disciples  had  not  seen  Jesus, 
and  could  not  rank  with  the  former  in  authority, — 
surpassing  them,  however,  in  activity  and  missionary 
zeal.  One  of  the  best  known  among  them  was  Stephen, 
who  before  his  conversion  seems  to  have  been,  not  a 
Jew,  but  a  simple  proselyte  (Acts  vi.  5;  viii.  2),  a  man 
full  of  heat  and  passion.  His  faith  was  most  ardent, 
and  he  was  believed  to  be  endowed  with  all  spiritual 
gifts.  Philip,  who,  like  Stephen,  was  a  deacon  and  a 
zealous  evangelist,  joined  the  community  at  the  same 
time  with  him,  and  is  often  confounded  with  the  apostle 
of  that  name  (Acts  xxi.  8,  9).  At  this  time,  too,  were 
converted  Andronicus  and  Junia  (or  Junias,  Rom.  xvi. 
7),  —  most  likely  husband  and  wife,  who,  like  Aquila 
and  Priscilla  at  a  later  date,  made  a  model  apostolic 
pair,  devoted  to  missionary  cares.     They  were  of  Is- 

*  1  Pet.  V.  13 ;  Papias  in  Eusebius,  iii.  39. 

2  Acts  xii.  12-14.  The  whole  chapter,  so  closely  connected  with  Peter, 
seems  to  have  been  composed  by  John  Mark,  or  from  his  information. 


Ii8  THE  APOSTLES. 

raelite  blood,  and  closely  related  to  the  apostles  (cn/yye 
„gj5^^  —  Jews  at  all  events,  whether  Benjamites  from 
Tarsus,  or  really  of  Paul's  kindred  (Rom.  ix.  3  ;  xi.  14). 

The  new  accessions  were  all,  at  the  time  of  their  con- 
version, Jews,  but  of  two  widely  differing  classes.  A 
part  were  "  Hebrews,"  ^  that  is,  Palestinian  Jews,  speak- 
ing Hebrew,  or  rather  Aramaic,  and  reading  the  Scrip- 
ture in  Hebrew ;  the  rest  "  Hellenists,"  that  is,  Jews 
speaking  Greek  and  reading  the  Scripture  in  Greek. 
Hellenists,  again,  were  of  two  classes,  some  being  of 
Jewish  blood,  and  others  "proselytes,"  that  is,  not 
Israelites  by  birth,  but  in  various  degrees  affiliated 
with  Jews.  Most  of  them  were  from  Syria,  Asia  Minor, 
Egypt,  or  Cyrene  (Acts  ii.  9-11 ;  vi.  9),  and  dwelt  in 
distinct  quarters  at  Jerusalem,  having  their  separate 
synagogues,  and  making  little  communities  apart.  Of 
such  separate  synagogues  there  were  very  many ;  the 
Jerusalem  Talmud  {Megilla,  73  c?)  puts  tKem  at  four 
hundred  and  eighty,  which  number  will  not  seem  incred- 
ible to  those  who  have  seen  the  little  family  mosques 
so  frequent  in  Mussulman  towns.  It  was  in  such  com- 
munities as  these  that  the  word  of  Jesus  found  the 
"  good  and  fertile  ground  "  for  its  propagation  and  bear- 
ing of  fruit. 

The  nucleus  of  the  Church  had  at  first  consisted 
wholly  of  "  Hebrews,"  the  Aramaic  dialect,  that  spoken 
by  Jesus,  being  the  only  one  known  or  used.  But  we 
see  that,  within  a  year  or  two  after  the  death  of  Jesus, 
the  Greek  tongue  was  already  creeping  into  the  little 
community,  where  it  was  destined  soon  to  dominate. 
By  reason  of  their  daily  relation  with  the  new  converts, 

1  Acts  vi.  1,  5  ;  2  Cor.  xi.  22  ;  Phil.  iii.  5. 


JEWISH  CONVERTS  AND  PROSELYTES,  119 

Peter,  John,  James,  and  Jude,  in  short,  the  Galilaeans 
generally,  learned  Greek  the  more  readily,  as  they  prob- 
ably knew  something  of  it  before.  The  diversity  of 
language  led  to  some  division  in  the  community,  in 
which  the  two  parties  were  not  quite  harmonious,  as 
we  shall  soon  find  evidence  (Acts  vi.  1).  After  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem  (a.  d.  70)  we  see  the  "  Hebrews," 
withdrawn  beyond  the  Jordan,  to  the  upland  near  the 
lake  of  Tiberias,  forming  a  Church  apart,  with  a  history 
of  its  own.-^  But,  previous  to  that  time,  it  does  not 
appear  that  the  diversity  of  tongues  had  any  serious 
consequence  in  the  Church.  Orientals  are  quick  to 
learn  a  new  language  j  two  or  three  dialects  are  spoken 
in  most  Eastern  towns.  The  Galilaean  apostles  who 
were  active  in  the  field  would  soon  gain  a  practical 
knowledge  of  Greek  —  the  epistle  of  James,  for  exam- 
ple, is  in  quite  pure  Greek;  and  when  the  foreign 
converts  became  the  more  numerous,  would  use  it  in 
preference  to  their  native  Aramaic.  The  Palestinian 
dialect  had  to  be  abandoned,  as  soon  as  a  widely  ex- 
tended propaganda  was  designed.  A  provincial  idiom, 
written  with  difficulty,^  and  never  spoken  outside  of 
Syria,  would  be  as  far  as  possible  from  serving  the 
purpose.  Greek,  on  the  other  hand,  was  in  a  manner 
compelled  upon  Christianity.  It  was  the  universal  lan- 
guage of  the  time,  at  least  for  the  eastern  coasts  of  the 
Mediterranean ;  and  was  the  language  of  the  Jews 
scattered  through  the  Roman  empire.  Then,  as  now, 
the  Jews  adopted  with  the  utmost  facility  the  language 

1  See  "Antichrist  "  (in  this  series),  pp.  241-243. 

*  Scholars  wrote  in  the  old  Hebrew,  a  little  altered.  Passages  like 
some  found  in  the  Babylonian  Talmud  (Kiddushin,  66  a)  may  have  been 
composed  about  the  time  of  which  we  speak. 


lao  THE  APOSTLES. 

of  the  country  where  they  lived.  They  made  no  point 
of  purity  in  speech;  that  is  why  early  Christianity 
used  such  bad  Greek,  for  even  the  most  learned  Jews 
were  ill  speakers  of  the  classic  tongue,  as  Joseph  us 
remarks  at  the  close  of  his  "  Antiquities."  Their  form 
of  expression  was  always  patterned  upon  the  Syriac, 
and  they  were  never  quite  free  from  the  influence  of 
the  rude  dialects  brought  among  them  by  the  Macedo- 
nian conquest,  as  is  proved  by  transcriptions  from 
Greek  into  Syriac.  Syrian  inscriptions  are  in  very 
corrupt  Greek.-^ 

Conversions  of  "Hellenists"  soon  became  far  more 
numerous  than  those  of  "  Hebrews."  The  old  Jews  of 
Jerusalem  were  little  drawn  toward  a  sect  of  provin- 
cials, imperfectly  trained  in  the  study  of  the  Law,  the 
only  science  that  a  Pharisee  could  understand.  The 
little  church  held,  as  Jesus  had  held  before,  a  dubious 
attitude  in  regard  to  Judaism.  But  every  religious  or 
political  party  has  within  itself  a  force  which  dominates 
it,  and  compels  it,  however  reluctantly,  to  traverse  its 
own  orbit.  The  first  Christians,  whatever  their  seem- 
ing respect  for  Judaism,  were  in  reality  Jews  only  by 
birth  or  by  outward  observance.  The  spirit  of  the  sect 
was  from  another  source.  The  true  product  of  official 
Judaism  was  the  Talmud ;  but  with  the  Talmudic 
school  Christianity  had  no  affinity  whatsoever.  Hence 
Christianity  found  favour  chiefly  in  the  least  Jewish 
parties  among  the  Jews.  Those  rigidly  orthodox  would 
give  it  no  ear.  Those  who  listened  to  the  apostles  and 
their  followers  were  the  new  comers,  those  hardly  cate- 
chised, who  had  attended  no  great  school,  who  were  out 

J  This  point  is  further  developed  by  the  author  in  his  l^claircissements 
(Paris,  1849). 


JEWISH  CONVERTS  AND  PROSELYTES.  121 

of  the  beaten  track,  and  unlearned  in  the  holy  tongue. 
Looked  down  upon  by  the  aristocracy  of  Jerusalem, 
these  new  comers  into  Judaism  thus  retaliated  against 
their  scorners.  A  young  party,  just  established  in  a 
community,  and  least  inured  to  its  traditions,  is  always 
most  inclined  to  innovation. 

Among  those  least  enslaved  to  the  doctors  of  the 
Law,  credulity  was  also,  it  would  appear,  most  child- 
like and  complete.  That  credulous  Jew,  delighting  in 
the  marvellous,  whom  the  Roman  satirists  seem  to 
have  known,  is  not  the  Jew  of  Jerusalem ;  he  is  the 
Hellenistic  Jew,  at  once  very  devout  and  little  learned, 
and  in  consequence  extremely  superstitious.  Neither 
the  half-sceptic  Sadducee  nor  the  over-strict  Pharisee 
would  be  much  affected  by  the  "  wonders  "  so  much  in 
vogue  in  the  apostolic  circle.  But  right  there,  eager 
for  belief,  was  the  "  JudaBus  Apella,"  whom  the  epicu- 
rean Horace  mocks  at  (Sat.  i.  5 :  105).  Furthermore, 
social  questions  particularly  interested  those  who  did 
not  profit  by  the  wealth  that  flowed  into  Jerusalem, 
drawn  by  the  Temple  and  the  central  institutions  of  the 
Jewish  nation.  And,  by  allying  itself  with  cravings 
like  those  which  we  now  call  "  socialistic,"  the  new 
sect  laid  the  solid  foundation  on  which  the  structure 
of  its  future  was  to  be  built. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CHARITABLE   ACTS   AND   INSTITUTIONS. — A.  D.  36. 

A  GENERAL  fact  is  brouglit  to  our  attention  in  the 
comparative  history  of  religions.  All  those  which 
have  had  a  beginning,  which  are  not  coeval  with  the 
birth  of  language  itself,  have  been  built  up  by  means 
of  social  rather  than  theological  demands.  It  was 
certainly  so  with  Buddhism.  What  gave  its  prodigious 
currency  to  this  religion  was  not  the  nihilistic  philos- 
ophy that  lay  at  its  base,  but  rather  its  fitness  to  a 
social  need.  By  proclaiming  the  abolition  of  caste,  by 
establishing  (to  use  his  own  words)  "  one  law  of  grace 
for  all,"  Sakya-Muni  and  his  followers  drew  after  them, 
first,  India,  then  the  largest  part  of  Asia :  so  Burnouf 
has  shown  in  the  Introduction  to  his  collected  and 
translated  texts.  Like  Christianity,  Buddhism  was  a 
'movement  among  the  poor.  The  wondrous  charm  that 
drew  all  to  fall  in  with  it  was  the  facility  it  offered  to 
the  dispossessed  classes  to  recover  their  position  by  the 
profession  of  a  faith  which  lifted  them  up  and  opened 
to  them  the  unlimited  resources  of  pity  and  help. 

The  number  of  the  poor  in  Judaea,  in  the  first  century 
of  our  era,  was  very  great.  The  country  is  by  nature 
devoid  of  resources  which  procure  wealth.  In  coun- 
tries such  as  this,  without  industry,  almost  all  great 
fortunes  have  their  origin  either  in  richly  endowed 
religious  institutions,  or  in  government  favour.     The 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  123 

wealth  of  the  Temple  had  long  been  the  exclusive  pos- 
session of  a  small  number  of  nobles.  The  Asmonaean 
kings,  descendants  of  the  Maccabees,  had  gathered 
about  themselves  a  group  of  wealthy  families,  and  the 
Herods  greatly  increased  luxury  and  prosperity  in  a 
certain  social  class ;  but  the  true  theocratic  Jew,  turn- 
ing his  back  to  the  Roman  civilisation,  had  grown  all 
the  poorer.  There  had  grown  up  a  considerable  re- 
ligious class,  —  pious,  fanatical,  strict  observers  of  the 
Law,  and  outwardly  in  extreme  poverty.  This  class 
made  the  recruiting-ground  for  the  various  fanatical 
sects  and  parties,  which  were  so  numerous  at  this  time. 
The  universal  dream  was  a  reign  of  the  Jew  of  the 
lower  orders,  and  the  humbling  of  the  rich,  who  were 
regarded  as  renegades,  traitors,  who  had  gone  over  to 
profane  life  and  foreign  manners.  There  was  never 
such  hatred  among  men  as  that  felt  by  these  "  God's 
poor"  against  the  splendid  structures  that  began  to 
cover  the  country,  and  against  the  works  of  the  Ro- 
mans.^ To  avoid  starvation  they  were  forced  to  toil 
on  these  structures,  which  seemed  to  them  monuments 
of  unlawful,  godless  pride  and  luxury ;  and  so  thought 
themselves  victims  of  wealthy  profligates,  corrupt  at 
heart,  and  forsakers  of  the  Law. 

By  such  a  class  as  this  we  may  conceive  how  eagerly 
an  association  of  mutual  help  was  welcomed.  The 
little  Christian  Church  must  seem  to  them  a  paradise. 
This  household  of  simple-hearted  and  closely  united 
brethren  drew  together  adherents  from  all  sides.  In 
return  for  what  he  might  contribute,  each  obtained  a 
degree  of  security  against  the  future,  the  kindliest  of 
fellowships,  and  inestimable  hopes.     The  usual  practice 

1  See  chapter  xi.  of  the  "  Life  of  Jesus." 


124  THE  APOSTLES. 

was  to  turn  one's  property  into  money  ^  before  joining 
the  community.  This  property  commonly  consisted  of 
little  country  holdings,  not  very  profitable,  and  trouble- 
some to  manage.  It  was  a  clear  advantage,  especially 
for  those  unmarried,  to  exchange  such  bits  of  land  for 
an  investment  in  a  society  for  mutual  insurance,  in 
anticipation  of  the  Divine  Kingdom.  Some  few  mar- 
ried persons  joined  even  in  advance  of  such  a  settle- 
ment of  their  goods,  and  precautions  were  taken  that 
these  members  should  really  bring  in  all  their  property, 
and  keep  nothing  back  from  the  common  fund  (Acts 
V.  1-11).  In  fact,  since  each  received  in  proportion 
not  to  his  investments  but  his  needs  {id.  ii.  45,  iv.  35), 
any  such  keeping  back  was  regarded  as  a  robbery  of 
the  community.  We  see  the  surprising  likeness  be- 
tween these  attempts  at  organising  the  poorer  classes 
and  certain  Utopian  schemes  of  our  own  day.  There  is, 
however,  a  wide  difference  in  this,  —  that  the  Christian 
communism  had  a  religious  base,  while  modern  socialism 
has  not.  It  is  plain  that,  where  the  dividend  is  in 
the  ratio  of  the  investor's  need  and  not  of  his  invest- 
ment, an  association  can  rely  only  on  a  very  exalted 
spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  an  ardent  faith,  and  a  religious 
motive. 

In  such  a  social  constitution  the  difficulties  of  admin- 
istration must  be  very  numerous,  whatever  the  spirit 
of  fraternity  may  be.  Especially  where  there  are  two 
sections  or  parties  speaking  different  tongues,  mis- 
understandings cannot  be  avoided.  Jews  by  race  were 
almost  sure  to  look  down,  more  or  less,  upon  their  less 
high-born  co-religionists.  In  fact,  murmurings  soon 
began  to  be  heard.     The  "Hellenists,"  increasing  in 

1  Acts  ii.  45;  iv.  34,  37;  v.  1. 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  125 

numbers  every  day,  complained  that  their  widows  were 
unfairly  treated  in  the  distribution  of  supplies  (v.  1). 
Hitherto  the  apostles  had  superintended  the  division. 
But,  in  the  face  of  such  complaints,  they  felt  the  need 
of  delegating  this  part  of  their  authority.  They  pro- 
posed, accordingly,  to  intrust  the  charge  of  adminis- 
tration to  seven  men  of  prudence  and  good  repute. 
The  proposal  was  accepted,  an  election  was  had,  and 
the  following  were  chosen  :  Stephen,  Philip,  Prochorus, 
Nicanor,  Timon,  Parmenas,  and  Nicolas.  The  last  was 
from  Antioch,  a  simple  proselyte ;  so  was  probably  Ste- 
phen, as  we  have  seen.  Quite  the  opposite  of  what 
was  done  in  electing  Matthias  as  an  apostle,  when  the 
choice  was  solely  among  the  primitive  disciples,  all 
those  now  chosen  were  not  only  new  converts,  but 
Hellenists,  as  their  purely  Greek  names  denote.  Ste- 
phen was  the  most  conspicuous  among  them,  and 
stood  in  a  sense  at  their  head.  All  were  presented 
to  the  apostles,  who  set  them  apart  by  a  formal 
rite,  with  prayer  and  the  laying  of  hands  upon  their 
heads. 

The  name  given  to  the  new  administrators  was 
the  Syriac  Shaminashin,  in  Greek  LiaKovoi  {attendants), 
which  we  render  "deacons."  They  were  sometimes 
called  "  the  Seven,"  in  distinction  from  "  the  Twelve." 
Such  was  the  origin  of  the  diaconate,  which  is  thus 
shown  to  be  the  oldest  of  ecclesiastical  offices,  or  sacred 
orders.  All  the  churches  thereafter  organised  had 
"deacons,"  in  imitation  of  that  at  Jerusalem.  The 
institution  of  the  new  order  was  marvellously  fertile  in 
results.  It  raised  the  care  of  the  poor  at  once  to  the 
level  of  a  religious  service ;  it  laid  down  the  maxim 
that  social  questions  are  the  first  of  all  to  be  consid- 


126  THE  APOSTLES. 

ered ;  it  laid  the  foundation  of  political  economy  in  the 
domain  of  religion.  The  deacons  were  the  best  of 
Christian  preachers.  We  shall  soon  see  in  what  rank 
they  were  held  as  evangelists;  as  organisers,  econo- 
mists, administrators,  their  post  was  more  important 
still.  These  practical  men,  in  perpetual  touch  with  the 
poor  and  sick,  and  with  women,  went  everywhere,  saw 
everything,  exhorted  and  converted  in  the  most  effec- 
tive way.^  They  were  far  more  efficient  messengers 
of  the  faith  than  the  apostles,  who  kept  quietly  at 
Jerusalem  in  their  place  of  honour;  and  were  the 
real  creators  of  what  was  most  solid  and  durable  in 
Christianity. 

Women  were  very  early  admitted  to  this  service,^ 
having,  as  among  us,  the  name  of  sisters.^  At  first 
they  were  widows,  as  we  see  by  the  letter  to  Timothy ; 
but  afterwards  unmarried  women  ("virgins")  were 
preferred  for  the  office.*  In  all  this  the  early  Church 
showed  an  admirable  tact.  The  foundations  of  charity, 
the  specially  Christian  virtue,  were  laid  by  these  excel- 
lent and  simple  hearted  men  with  a  science  which  was 
deep  because  it  came  from  the  soul.  They  had  before 
them  no  existing  model.  The  pious  structure  built  up 
by  the  toil  of  these  two  or  three  first  years  was  a  vast 
ministry  of  beneficence  and  mutual  help,  to  which  both 
sexes  brought  each  its  special  faculty,  combining  their 
efforts  for  the  relief  of  human  misery.  These  were  the 
most  fruitful  years  of  all  Christian  history.     The  still 

^  Phil.  i.  1 ;  1  Tim.  iii.  8-13. 

2  Rom.  xvi.  1,  12;  1  Tim.  iii.  11;  v.  9-16;  Pliny,  Epist.  x.  97.  The 
Epistles  to  Timothy  were  probably  not  written  by  Paul,  but  are  at  any 
rate  very  old. 

8  Rom.  xvi.  1;  1  Cor.  ix.  5;  Philem.  2. 

*  Constit.  Apost.  vi.  17. 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  127 

living  thought  of  Jesus  is  seen  to  pervade  his  disciples, 
and  to  direct  them  with  wonderful  clearness  and  pre- 
cision in  their  work.  To  him,  in  truth,  should  be 
given  the  glory  of  that  which  his  apostles  effected 
on  a  larger  scale.  He,  as  will  appear,  laid  in  his  life- 
time the  groundwork  of  those  constructions  which  so 
fruitfully  and  speedily,  after  his  death,  attained  their 
full  development. 

Naturally,  women  thronged  to  a  community  in  which 
the  weak  found  so  effective  aid.  Their  social  position 
was  at  this  time  humble  and  precarious.^  Widows,  es- 
pecially, in  spite  of  some  legal  protection,  were  little 
regarded  and  were  generally  left  in  misery.  Many 
teachers  held  that  women  should  receive  no  religious 
education.^  The  Talmud  puts  the  virgin  who  wastes 
her  time  in  prayer  under  the  same  reproach  with  the 
spying  and  gossiping  widow  who  spends  her  days  in  scan- 
dal-mongering  among  her  neighbours.^  The  new  re- 
ligion provided  an  honourable  and  safe  refuge  for  these 
poor  forsaken  creatures  (Acts  vi.  1).  Some  women  held 
a  position  of  high  respect  in  the  Church,  and  their 
houses  served  as  places  of  assembling  {iid.  xii.  12). 
Those  who  had  not  houses  of  their  own  were  made  into 
a  sort  of  order  by  themselves,  a  presbytery  of  women,* 
probably  including  the  unmarried,  which  filled  an  im- 
portant place  in  the  organising  of  charitable  work. 
Institutions  commonly  regarded  as  the  late  fruit  of 
Christianity  —  female  congregations,  beguines,  and  sis- 

1  Wisd.  ii.  10 ;  Ecclus.  xxxviL  17;  Matt,  xxiii.  14;  Mark  xii.  40;  Luke 
XX.  47 ;  Jas.  i.  27. 

2  Misbna,  Sola,  iii.  4. 

«  Babyl.  Talm.  Sota,  22  a;  comp.  1  Tim.  v.  13;  Buxtorf,  Lex.  Chald. 
etc.,  under  the  words  JT'^'Sx  and  n''321ty. 
*  1  Tim.  V.  9-16 ;  Acts  ix.  39,  41. 


123  THE  APOSTLES, 

ters  of  charity  —  were  really  among  its  earliest  crea- 
tions, the  first-fruits  of  its  vigour,  and  the  most  perfect 
expressions  of  its  spirit.  In  particular,  the  admirable 
scheme  of  consecrating  by  a  sort  of  religious  character, 
and  submitting  to  a  regular  discipline,  those  women 
who  are  not  bound  by  the  duties  and  relations  of  wed- 
lock, is  altogether  Christian.  The  word  "  widow  "  came 
to  denote  a  religious  person  devoted  to  divine  things, 
and  in  consequence  a  "  deaconess."  (1  Tim.  v.  3.)  In 
these  regions  where  a  wife  of  four-and-twenty  is  already 
faded, — when  there  is  for  the  woman  but  one  step  from 
childhood  into  old  age  —  a  new  life,  as  it  were,  was 
created  for  that  half  of  humanity  most  susceptible  of 
devout  impressions. 

The  age  of  the  Seleucidae  (b.  c.  300-180)  had  been 
a  terrible  period  of  feminine  extravagances.  The  world 
had  never  seen  so  many  scenes  of  domestic  discord,  such 
a  series  of  adulteresses  and  female  poisoners.  Wise 
men  of  that  time  were  led  to  think  of  women  as  a 
scourge  of  the  human  race,  an  element  of  baseness  and 
shame,  an  evil  power,  whose  only  task  it  was  to  contend 
against  the  germs  of  a  nobler  life  in  man.^  Christian- 
ity changed  all  this.  At  an  age  which  in  our  eye  is 
still  youth,  but  in  which  the  life  of  the  oriental  woman 
is  so  sombre,  so  fatally  given  over  to  the  suggestions  of 
evil,  the  widow,  wrapping  her  head  in  a  black  mantle,^ 
might  become  a  person  held  in  honour,  with  a  worthy 
calling,  a  deaconess,  the  equal  of  the  most  respected  men. 
Christianity  thus  exalted  and  sanctified  that  hard  posi- 

^  Eccl.  vii.  27 ;  Ecclus.  viL  26;  ix.  1  et  seq. ;  xxv.  22;  xxvi.  1;  xlii.  9, 
^  The  type  of  the  -woman  devoted  to  a  religious  life  is  in  the  East  a 

widow,  in  the  Western  Church  a  virgin.     For  their  costume,  see  Greek 

MS.  64,  fol.  11  (Bibliolheque  Nationale,  Paris). 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  129 

tion  of  the  childless  widow.^  She  stood  on  almost  the 
same  level  with  the  virgin ;  she  became  the  "  fair 
matron  "  (/caXoypta)/  venerated,  serviceable,  honoured 
as  a  mother.  These  women,  constantly  going  and 
coming,  were  admirable  missionaries  for  the  new  faith. 
It  is  an  error  of  Protestants  to  judge  these  matters 
from  our  modern  individualistic  point  of  view.  When 
we  have  to  do  with  Christian  history,  the  primitive 
element  is  socialism  or  communism. 

At  this  day  there  was  no  bishop,  no  priest,  such  as 
time  has  developed  since.  But  the  pastoral  office,  the 
intimate  concourse  of  souls  outside  the  lines  of  kindred, 
was  already  established.  This  has  always  been  the 
special  gift  of  Jesus,  and  is,  as  it  were,  a  heritage  from 
him.  He  had  often  said  that  to  each  who  believed  in 
him  he  was  more  than  father  or  mother ;  that  the  dear- 
est must  be  forsaken  to  follow  him.  Christianity  set 
something  above  the  family ;  it  created  the  bond  of 
spiritual  fraternity,  spiritual  marriage.  Marriage  in 
antiquity,  putting  the  wife  in  her  husband's  power 
without  restraint,  without  counterpoise,  made  her  his 
slave.  The  moral  freedom  of  woman  began  when  the 
Church  gave  a  confidant,  a  guide  in  Jesus,  to  direct  and 
console,  to  listen  to  her  at  all  times,  and  sometimes  en- 
courage her  self-assertion.  Woman  [as  well  as  man] 
needs  control  of  some  authority,  and  is  unhappy  with- 
out it ;  but  it  is  needful  that  she  should  love  the  one 
who  exercises  it.  This  is  what  neither  antiquity  nor 
Judaism  nor  Islam  could  effect.  To  this  day,  it  is  in 
Christianity  alone  that  woman  has  found  a  religious 

1  See  the  "  Shepherd  "  of  Hermas,  vis.  2,  ch.  4. 

2  This  is  the  name  given  to  a  woman  of  religious  vocation  in  the 
Eastern  Church. 

9 


I30  THE  APOSTLES. 

consciousness,  a  moral  individuality,  or  an  opinion  of 
her  own.  Thanks  to  bishops  and  the  monastic  life,  a 
Queen  Kadegond  could  find  means  to  escape  the  tyr- 
anny of  a  barbaric  consort.  Since  the  life  of  the  soul 
is  all  that  counts,  it  is  right  and  reasonable  [according 
to  the  Catholic  ideal]  that  the  pastor,  who  can  make 
the  divine  chord  thrill  to  his  touch  —  the  private  coun- 
sellor, who  holds  the  key  to  the  conscience  —  should 
be  more  than  father,  more  than  husband. 

Christianity  was,  in  one  view,  a  reaction  against  the 
too  rigid  constitution  of  the  Family  in  the  Aryan  race. 
Not  only  the  old  Aryan  societies  hardly  admitted  any 
but  married  men  into  the  body  politic,  but  they  inter- 
preted marriage  in  its  strictest  sense.  It  was  some 
thing  akin  to  the  English  family  [as  we  find  it  some- 
times represented],  —  a  close,  stifling,  narrow  circle,  an 
egotism  of  the  household,  almost  as  desiccating  to  the 
soul  as  the  solitary  selfishness  of  one.  Christianity, 
with  its  divine  thought  of  the  "  liberty  of  the  sons  of 
God,"  checked  this  exaggeration.  First,  it  avoided  the 
enforcing  upon  everybody  the  burdens  of  the  masculine 
commonwealth.  It  recognised  that  the  family  is  not 
the  sole  type  of  social  life,  —  at  least,  not  a  type  to  be 
stamped  upon  all  alike ;  that  the  care  of  progeny  is  not 
a  charge  laid  upon  every  man ;  that  from  such  charge 
(a  sacred  charge,  no  doubt)  it  is  well  that  a  special  class 
should  be  relieved.  Greek  society  made  such  an  exemp- 
tion in  favour  of  women  like  Aspasia  (eratpat,  "  feminine 
companions  ") ;  and  Italian  society  did  the  same  for  the 
cortigiaTia  ("court-lady"),  like  Imperia  :  this  was  done 
in  consideration  of  the  demands  of  polite  society.  A 
similar  exemption  was  made  by  Christianity,  in  view  of 
the  common  good,  for  the  priest,  the  person  devoted  to 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  \y. 

a  religious  life,  the  deaconess.  Thus  various  social  con- 
ditions were  adopted  in  the  infant  Church.  There  are 
souls  so  constituted  as  to  choose  before  the  love  of  five 
or  six  persons,  the  love  of  several  hundreds;  and  to 
these  family  life,  under  its  ordinary  conditions,  seems 
insufficient,  cold,  and  tiresome.  Why  force  upon  all 
persons  the  requirements  of  our  dull  and  narrow  family 
life  ?  The  secular  family  alone  is  not  enough ;  it  is 
needful  that  there  be  brothers  and  sisters  "not  of 
the  flesh." 

These  opposite  demands  seem  for  a  time  to  have 
been  reconciled  in  the  primitive  Church  by  its  hierarchy 
of  different  social  obligations.  \ye  shall  never  fully 
understand  what  happiness  there  was  under  these  pious 
regulations,  which  sustained  freedom  without  enforcing 
it,  and  made  possible  at  once  the  calm  enjoyments  of 
the  community  with  those  of  private  life.  Such  free- 
dom was  widely  apart  from  the  confusions  of  our  arti- 
ficial and  loveless  condition  of  society,  in  which  the 
feeling  soul  is  often  shut  out  into  cruel  solitude.  In 
these  modest  retreats  which  we  call  churches  the  atmo- 
sphere was  warm  and  gentle.  Within  them  life  was 
spent  in  the  same  faith  and  hope.  Such  conditions, 
however,  plainly  could  not  apply  to  society  at  large. 
When  a  whole  nation  has  turned  Christian,  the  prim- 
itive order  becomes  an  utopia,  and  takes  refuge  in 
the  monastery.  In  this  view,  monastic  life  is  but  the 
continuation  of  that  in  the  early  Church.  The  convent 
is  the  necessary  deduction  from  the  Christian  theory  of 
life ;  the  convent,  or  its  equivalent,  is  needed  to  carry 
out  completely  the  Christian  ideal,  since  it  is  the  only 
complete  realising  of  the  gospel  rule.  Thus,  even  in 
Protestant  America,  we  find  congregations  of  pietists, 


132 


THE  APOSTLES. 


which,  like  the  Catholic  convent,  revive  many  a  feature 
of  the  primitive  Christianity.^ 

Much  in  these  beneficent  constructions  is  no  doubt 
due  to  Judaism.  Each  of  the  Jewish  communities  scat- 
tered along  the  Mediterranean  coast  was  already  a  sort 
of  church,  with  its  fund  for  mutual  relief.  Almsgiving, 
as  incessantly  urged  by  the  wise  men  of  old,^  had  be- 
come a  sort  of  common  law ;  it  was  practised  in  both 
temple  and  synagogue,^  and  was  made  the  first  duty  of 
the  proselyte  (Acts  x.  2,  4,  31).  In  all  ages  Judaism 
has  been  distinguished  by  the  care  of  its  poor  and  by 
the  sentiment  of  brotherly  charity  it  fosters. 

It  would  be  the  height  of  injustice  to  extol  Chris- 
tianity at  the  expense  of  Judaism,  from  which  most  of 
its  primitive  features  were  derived.  It  is  when  we  look 
at  the  Roman  world  that  we  find  the  real  contrast,  in 
those  miracles  of  charity  and  free  association  effected 
by  the  Church.  No  secular  society,  assuming  reason 
only  for  its  base,  has  wrought  these  admirable  results. 
The  law  of  every  secular,  philosophic  society  (if  I  may 
call  it  so)  is  libejiy,  sometimes  equality,  seldom  or  never 
fraternity.  As  a  matter  merely  of  justice,  charity  lays 
no  claim ;  it  regards  only  the  individual ;  it  is  found  to 
be  in  some  ways  even  harmful  [as  by  the  encourage- 
ment it  gives  to  beggary],  and  so  excites  distrust. 
Every  attempt  to  maintain  the  poor  at  public  cost 
savours  of  communism.    When  a  man  starves  to  death, 

^  L.  Bridel,  Recits  Americains:  Lausanne,  1861.  [Our  newest  forms 
of  philanthropy  have  reproduced  some  of  these  features  in  the  "  college 
settlement."] 

2  Prov.  iii.  27;  x.  2;  xi.  4;  xxii.  9 ;  xxviii.  27;  Ecclus.  iii.  23;  vii.  36; 
xii.  1 ;  xviii.  14;  xx.  13 ;  xxxi.  11  (with  the  context)  ;  Tobit,  ii.  15, 22;  iv. 
11 ;  xii,  9;  xiv.  11 ;  Dan.  iv.  24 ;  Jerus.  Talm.  Peak,  15  6. 

*  Matt.  vi.  2;  Mishna,  Shek.  v.  6;  Jerus.  Talm.  Demai,  23  b. 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  133 

when  whole  classes  waste  in  wretchedness,  political 
economy  only  finds  that  public  misery  is  a  public 
burden.  It  proves,  to  its  own  satisfaction,  that  civil 
and  political  order  rests  on  individual  freedom,  of 
which  the  consequence  is  that  one  who  has  nothing 
and  can  earn  nothing  must  starve.  This  is  good  logic ; 
but  against  the  abuse  of  logic  there  is  no  defence.  The 
needs  of  the  "  most  numerous  and  most  wretched  class  " 
at  length  carry  the  day.  Institutions  merely  political 
and  civil  are  not  enough.  Social  and  religious  aspira- 
tions have  also  their  rightful  claim. 

The  glory  of  the  Jewish  people  is  to  have  proclaimed 
this  principle  in  tones  of  thunder,  —  a  principle  which 
made  the  ruin  of  ancient  States,  but  which  will  never 
be  uprooted.  The  Jewish  Law  is  social,  not  political. 
The  prophets  and  writers  of  apocalyptic  visions  have 
promoted  social,  not  political,  revolutions.  In  the  first 
half  of  the  first  century,  the  Jews  had  but  one  idea. 
This  was  to  repudiate  the  advantages  of  Roman  Jus- 
tice,—  that  philosophic  and  atheistic  justice,  impartial 
to  all ;  and  to  declare  the  excellence  of  their  theocratic 
Law,  the  foundation  of  a  religious  and  moral  State. 
The  object  of  Law  is  human  happiness :  this  is  the 
idea  of  all  Jewish  thinkers,  like  Philo  and  Josephus. 
The  laws  of  other  nations  insist  that  justice  shall  have 
its  course ;  little  it  recks  whether  or  not  to  make  men 
good  and  happy.  The  Jewish  Law  stoops  to  the  last 
details  of  moral  training.  Christianity  only  carries 
farther  out  the  same  idea.  Each  church  is  a  monastery, 
where  each  has  the  rights  of  all ;  where  there  must 
be  neither  poor  nor  wicked ;  where  every  man,  conse- 
quently, must  watch  himself  and  govern  himself.  The 
primitive  Church  may  be  defined  as  a  great  community 


134  THE  APOSTLES. 

of  poor  men,  an  heroic  effort  to  control  human  selfish- 
ness, founded  on  the  maxim  that  each  has  the  right 
only  to  what  he  needs,  while  the  overplus  belongs  of 
right  to  those  who  have  none.  We  see  at  once  that 
between  this  spirit  and  that  of  Rome  there  must  ensue 
a  mortal  conflict ;  and  that  Christianity  will  succeed  in 
ruling  the  world  only  on  condition  of  a  profound  alter- 
ation in  its  native  tendencies  and  its  original  plan. 

Yet  the  needs  which  it  represents  will  never  cease 
to  exist.  Begrinninoj  with  the  second  half  of  the  Mid- 
die  Age  [after  the  death  of  Saint  Bernard  in  1153, 
which  closed  the  first  great  era  of  monasticism], 
communistic  life  had  served  the  abuses  of  an  intoler- 
ant Church ;  the  monastery  had  come  to  be  too  often  a 
feudal  fief  or  the  barracks  of  a  dangerous  and  fanati- 
cal soldiery  [as  in  the  horrid  religious  war  of  Lan- 
guedoc].  The  modern  spirit,  in  consequence,  has  shown 
itself  bitterly  hostile  to  monasticism  in  all  its  forms. 
We  have  forgotten  that  it  is  in  communistic  life  the 
soul  of  man  has  tasted  the  deepest  joy.  The  glad  song 
is  no  longer  ours :  "  How  good  and  how  pleasant  it  is 
when  brothers  live  together  in  unity ! "  But,  when 
modern  individualism  shall  have  borne  its  latest  fruit ; 
when  mankind,  belittled,  saddened,  impotent,  shall  take 
refuge  again  in  noble  institutions  and  vigorous  dis- 
cipline ;  when  the  heroes  and  idealists  of  humanity 
shall  have  driven  out  with  a  scourge  of  thongs  our 
mean  "  society  of  shopkeepers,"  our  modern  world  of 
pygmies,  —  then  the  great  word  "  commonwealth  " 
will  find  again  its  meaning.  A  multitude  of  grand 
interests,  like  science,  no  longer  dependent  on  heredi- 
tary wealth,  will  be  organized  under  the  monastic  form. 
Family  importance,  which  our  age  has  set  so  high,  will 


CHARITABLE  ACTS  AND  INSTITUTIONS.  135 

be  shrunken.  Selfishness  as  the  bottom  law  of  civi- 
lised society  will  not  content  the  noble  soul.  All  such, 
thronging  from  every  side,  will  join  in  alliance  against 
vulgar  greed.  The  words  of  Jesus,  the  thoughts  of  the 
Middle  Age,  regarding  poverty,  will  come  back  to  us. 
We  shall  understand  how  possession  ma}^  once  have  been 
held  a  disadvantage ;  how  the  early  mystics,  professors 
of  the  "  poverty  of  Christ,"  disputed  for  ages  whether 
Jesus  himself  owned  anything  of  those  "  goods  which 
perish  in  the  using."  Such  Franciscan  subtilties  will 
again  make  grave  social  problems.  The  splendid  ideal 
sketched  by  the  writer  of  "  Acts  "  will  again  be  writ- 
ten as  a  prophetic  revelation,  on  the  gateway  of  the 
world's  paradise  :  "  The  multitude  of  them  that  be- 
lieved were  of  one  heart  and  of  one  soul ;  neither 
said  any  of  them  that  aught  which  he  possessed  was 
his  own,  but  they  had  all  things  common.  Neither 
was  there  any  in  need  among  them;  for  as  many  as 
were  owners  of  lands  or  houses  sold  them,  and  brought 
the  price  of  the  things  sold  and  laid  it  at  the  apostles' 
feet,  and  distribution  was  made  to  every  man  according 
as  he  had  need  "  (iv.  32-35).  "  And  they  broke  their 
bread  daily  from  house  to  house,  and  did  eat  their 
meat  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart"  (ii.  46). 
But  let  us  not  anticipate.  "We  are  now  at  or  about 
the  year  36.  Tiberius,  at  Capreae,  has  no  suspicious 
dread  of  that  foe  to  the  Empire,  who  is  now  increasing 
in  strength.  Within  two  or  three  years  the  Church 
had  grown  surprisingly,  now  reckoning  several  thou- 
sands of  disciples  (Acts  ii.  41).  One  might  easily  fore- 
see that  its  conquests  were  to  be  mainly  from  among 
the  Hellenists  and  proselytes.  The  Galilaean  group  who 
had  listened  to  the  Master,  while  retaining  their  pri- 


136  THE  APOSTLES. 

macy,  were  well-nigh  lost  in  the  flood  of  new  comers 
whose  native  tongue  was  Greek.  "We  already  feel  that 
the  future  belongs  to  these  men.  Hitherto  no  Gentile, 
—  that  is,  none  without  some  previous  relations  with 
Judaism  —  has  come  into  the  Church.  But  proselytes, 
as  we  have  seen,  already  hold  important  charges  in  it. 
The  circle  from  which  the  converts  have  been  drawn  is 
greatly  widened.  We  see  no  longer  a  simple  small 
group  of  Palestinians,  but  reckon  among  them  men 
from  Cyprus,  Antioch,  and  Cyrene,  —  in  general  from 
almost  every  point  on  the  eastward  shores  of  the  Medi- 
terranean where  Jewish  colonies  were  established.  Thus 
far,  and  for  a  long  time  yet  to  come,  Egypt  makes  no 
contribution  to  the  primitive  Church.  The  Jews  of 
Egypt  were  almost  at  open  feud  with  those  of  Pales- 
tine. They  lived  their  own  life,  in  many  ways  more 
prospered,  and  were  very  little  touched  by  any  impres- 
sion from  the  religious  movements  at  Jerusalem. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FIKST   PERSECUTION   AND   THE    DEATH    OF   STEPHEN  — 

A.  D.  37. 

The  discourses  of  the  new  sect,  with  whatever  of  re- 
serve they  might  be  spoken,  could  not  fail  to  awaken 
the  angry  hostilities  that  had  gathered  about  the  Foun- 
der and  had  caused  his  death.  The  SadducaBan  family 
of  Hanan,  by  whose  direct  influence  he  had  been  con- 
demned, was  still  in  power.  Joseph  Caiaphas  continued 
to  hold,  in  36,  the  high-priesthood,  though  the  real 
exercise  of  power  lay  with  his  father-in-law  Hanan 
and  his  kinsmen  John  and  Alexander.^  These  arrogant 
and  hard-hearted  men  looked  with  an  evil  eye  upon 
a  company  of  worthy  and  pious  people,  who  without 
official  dignity  could  win  the  favour  of  the  multitude.^ 
Once  or  twice,  Peter,  John,  and  the  chief  members  of 
the  body  of  apostles,  were  put  in  prison  and  condemned 
to  scourging,  the  penalty  inflicted  upon  heretics,^  not 
requiring  the  consent  of  Roman  authorities.  As  we 
may  well  believe,  these  cruelties  only  quickened  the 
zeal  of  the  apostles.  They  left  the  Sanhedrin,  where 
they  had  undergone  the  scourging,  full  of  joy  at  hav- 
ing been  judged  worthy  to  suffer  ignominy  for  his  sake 
whom  they  loved  (v.  41).     It  is  but  a  childish  thing  to 

1  Acts  iv.  6 ;  see  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  348. 

2  Actsiv.  1-31;  v.  17-41. 

8  See  "Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  177. 


138  THE  APOSTLES. 

attempt  the  suppression  by  penalties  of  things  of  the 
spirit.  These  officials,  no  doubt,  passed  as  guardians  of 
the  peace,  as  models  of  sagacity  and  prudence,  —  these 
dullards  who,  in  the  year  36,  thought  to  settle  the  doom 
of  Christianity  with  a  few  strokes  of  the  lash ! 

These  attacks  came  chiefly  from  the  Sadducees,^  that 
is,  from  the  higher  ranks  of  the  priesthood,  those  who 
surrounded  the  Temple  and  derived  large  profit  from 
it.^  The  Pharisees  do  not  appear  to  have  shown  the 
animosity  against  the  new  sect  which  they  exhibited 
against  Jesus.  The  Christian  believers  were  strictly 
pious  people,  in  their  way  of  life  very  like  the  Phari- 
sees themselves,  whose  wrath  against  Jesus  arose  from 
jealousy  at  his  too  manifest  superiority  to  them.  His 
keen  retorts,  his  clear  understanding  and  personal 
charm,  his  undisguised  contempt  of  false  pretenders  to 
piety,  had  kindled  in  them  a  bitter  hate.  The  apostles, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  rather  dull  of  wit,  and  void  of 
all  touch  of  his  fine  irony.  To  these  the  Pharisees  at 
times  showed  marks  of  favour  ;  some  of  them  even  be- 
came Christian  converts  (Acts  xv.  5,  xxi.  20).  The  ter- 
rible rebukes  of  Jesus  were  not  yet  written  down,  and 
the  tradition  of  his  words  was  neither  general  nor  uni- 
form. We  may  suppose,  besides,  that  the  mutual  ill- 
will  of  Jesus  and  the  Pharisees  was  exaggerated  by  the 
Synoptics  on  account  of  the  circumstances  which,  in  the 
time  of  the  great  war,  led  to  the  retreat  of  the  Chris- 
tians across  the  Jordan.  It  is  clear,  meanwhile,  that 
James  "  the  Lord's  brother,"  was  almost  a  Pharisee 
himself.^ 

1  Act^  iv.  5,  6;  V.  17;  Jas.  ii.  6. 

2  Comp.  Acts  iv.  6  with  Jos.  Ant,  xx.  8 : 8. 
•  See  "  Antichrist,''  chap.  iii. 


FIRST  PERSECUTION;  DEATH  OF  STEPHEN.         139 

These  first  Christians  were,  further,  harmless  people, 
so  void  of  offence  that  many  of  the  Jewish  aristocracy, 
while  not  belonging  to  them,  were  well  inclined  to 
favour  them.  Nicodemus  and  Joseph  of  Arimathaea, 
who  had  known  Jesus  personally,  continued  in  friendly 
relations  with  the  Church.  Rabbi  Gamaliel,  the  elder, 
the  most  famous  Jewish  doctor  of  the  day,  grandson  of 
Hillel,  a  man  of  broad  views  and  very  tolerant,  advo- 
cated in  the  Sanhedrim,  it  is  said,  the  liberty  of  gospel 
preaching.^  The  writer  of  Acts  credits  him  with  an 
excellent  declaration  of  opinion,  which  might  well  serve 
as  a  rule  of  policy  to  governments  whenever  confronted 
by  innovations  in  the  intellectual  or  moral  order :  "  If," 
said  he,  "  this  counsel  or  this  work  be  of  men,  it  will 
perish  of  itself ;  but  if  it  is  of  God,  you  cannot  destroy 
it.  Would  you,  then,  be  found  fighting  against  God  ?  " 
Gamaliel's  words  found  little  hearing.  Between  oppo- 
site fanaticisms,  a  really  liberal  and  enlightened  policy 
has  small  chance  of  success. 

A  terrible  outburst  was  called  out  by  the  deacon 
Stephen  (Acts  vi.  8-vii.  59).  His  preaching,  it  appears, 
was  gaining  a  wide  influence.  Crowds  thronged  about 
him,  and  such  assemblies  were  sure  to  lead  to  lively  dis- 
putes. They  were  largely  made  up  of  Hellenists  or 
proselytes,  habitual  attendants  on  what  was  called  the 
"synagogue  of  Freedmen"  {Libertini),  probably  descend- 
ants of  Jews  who  had  been  taken  to  Rome  as  slaves, 
and  afterwards  manumitted,^  men  from  Cyrene,  Alexan- 
dria, Cilicia,  or  Ephesus,  greatly  addicted  to  these  dis- 
putes. Stephen  passionately  maintained  that  Jesus  was 
the  true  Messiah,  that  the  priests  had  been  guilty  of  a 

1  Acts  V.  34-39 ;  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  240. 

2  See  Philo,  Leg.  ad  Caium,  23  ;  Tacitus,  Ann.  ii.  85. 


I40  THE  APOSTLES. 

crime  in  his  death,  that  the  Jews  were  rebels,  of  a  re- 
bellious stock,  who  shut  their  eyes  to  evidence.  The 
authorities  resolved  to  destroy  this  daring  preacher. 
"Witnesses  were  deputed  to  lie  in  wait  for  some  word 
against  Moses  in  his  discourse,  and  naturally  found 
what  they  wanted.  Stephen  was  put  under  arrest,  and 
brought  before  the  Sanhedrim.  The  phrase  charged 
against  him  was  almost  exactly  the  same  that  had 
brought  about  the  condemnation  of  Jesus.  He  was 
accused  of  saying  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  would  destroy 
the  Temple  and  change  the  traditions  ascribed  to  Moses 
(Mark  xiv.  68).  It  is  quite  possible .  that  Stephen  may 
have  used  some  such  language.  A  Christian  of  that 
time  would  not  dream  of  speaking  in  so  many  words 
against  the  Law,  which  all  Christians  then  obeyed ; 
while  Stephen  may  well  have  opposed  the  traditions, 
as  Jesus  did  himself,  —  these  very  traditions  being 
ignorantly  traced  to  Moses  by  the  orthodox,  who  as- 
signed to  them  a  value  equal  to  that  of  the  written 
Law.^ 

Stephen,  in  his  defence,  set  forth  at  great  length  pas- 
sages from  the  Pentateuch,  the  Psalms,  and  the  Prophets, 
closing  with  a  vehement  charge  against  the  members 
of  the  Sanhedrim,  as  guilty  of  the  murder  of  Jesus." 
"  Stiff-necked  and  uncircumcised  in  heart ! "  said  he, 
"  will  you  still  continue  to  resist  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  your 
fathers  did  ?  Which  of  the  prophets  did  they  not  perse- 
cute ?  They  put  to  death  every  one  who  foretold  the 
coming  of  the  Just  One,  whom  you  have  betrayed,  and 
whose  murderers  you  are  !  That  very  Law  which  you 
received  from  the  mouth  of  angels,  you  yourselves  have 

1  Matt.  XV.  2-9  ;  Mark  vii.  3;  Gal.  i.  14. 


FIRST  PERSECUTIONS  DEATH  OF  STEPHEN.         141 

not  kept !  "^  At  these  words  Stephen  was  interrupted 
by  a  yell  of  wrath  ;  but  rising  to  a  still  higher  pitch,  he 
fell  into  one  of  those  fits  of  frenzy  which  were  called 
inspirations  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Fixing  his  gaze  up- 
ward, he  "  saw  the  glory  of  God  and  Jesus  enthroned 
on  the  right  hand  of  his  Father,"  and  cried  aloud,  "  I 
see  the  heavens  open  and  the  Son  of  Man  standing  on 
the  right  hand  of  God !  "  The  bystanders  stopped  their 
ears,  and  threw  themselves  upon  him  gnashing  their 
teeth,  dragged  him  out  of  the  city,  and  stoned  him 
to  death.  The  witnesses,  who  according  to  the  Law 
(Deut.  xvii.  7)  were  bound  to  cast  the  first  stones,  threw 
off  their  garments  and  laid  them  at  the  feet  of  a  young 
fanatic  named  Saul,  or  Paul,  who  reflected  (no  doubt) 
with  secret  satisfaction  on  the  merit  that  he  was  earning 
by  his  share  in  the  death  of  a  blasphemer.^ 

Throughout  this  shocking  scene  the  directions  given 
in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Deuteronomy  were  scru- 
pulously observed.  But  by  the  Civil  Code  this  tumultu- 
ary execution,  carried  out  without  consent  of  the  Roman 
authorities,  was  illegal  (John  xviii.  31).  In  the  case  of 
Jesus,  as  we  have  before  seen,  the  ratification  of  the 
Governor  {procurator)  was  required.  It  may  be  that 
this  ratification  was  obtained  for  the  execution  of 
Stephen,  and  that  it  was  not  the  sudden  act  of  a 
mob,  as  would  appear  from  the  narrative  in  "Acts." 
The  Roman  authority  too,  may  have  slackened  its 
rule   in  Judaea.      Pilate  had  been   deposed  from  his 

^  Comp.  Gal.  iii.  19;  Heb.  ii.  2;  Jos.  Antiq.  xv.  5:3.  The  common 
view  was  that  God  himself  did  not  appear  in  person  in  the  theophanies  of 
the  Old  Testament,  but  sent  in  his  stead  an  intermediary,  "  the  messen- 
ger of  Jehovah,"  maleak  Jahveh  (nirr  IN^d). 

2  Acts  vji.  59 ;  xxii.  20 ;  xxvi.  10. 


142  THE  APOSTLES. 

office,  or  was  just  about  to  be.  The  real  cause  of  his 
disgrace  was  the  too  great  severity  of  his  administra- 
tion.^ Jewish  fanaticism  had  made  life  unendurable  to 
him.  He  was  perhaps  weary  of  refusing  to  these  law- 
less leaders  the  violences  they  insisted  on  his  conniving 
at;  and  the  haughty  house  of  Hanan  had  no  longer 
need  of  his  permission  to  execute  a  death  sentence. 
Lucius  Vitellius  (father  of  him  who  was  emperor  a  gen- 
eration later)  was  then  Imperial  Legate  (Governor-Gen- 
eral) of  Syria.  He  aimed  at  gaining  the  good-will  of 
the  native  populations,  and  restored  to  the  Jews  the 
priestly  vestments  which  had  been  kept  in  the  tower 
Antonia  since  the  time  of  Herod .^  Far  from  upholding 
Pilate  in  his  acts  of  severity,  he  yielded  to  the  popu- 
lar complaints,  and  despatched  him  to  Rome,  early  in 
the  year  36,  to  answer  the  charges  of  maladministra- 
tion. The  chief  grievance  of  his  subjects  was  that  he 
did  not  sufficiently  indulge  their  intolerant  temper,  as 
was  shown  at  the  trial  of  Jesus.^  Vitellius  put  in  his 
place,  for  the  time,  his  own  friend  Marcellus,  who  was 
doubtless  more  indulgent  to  the  Jews,  and  consequently 
more  ready  to  wink  at  their  religious  murders.  The 
death  of  Tiberius,  on  the  16th  of  March,  A.  d.  37,  fur- 
ther encouraged  Vitellius  in  his  lax  policy.  The  first 
two  years  of  Caligula  were  a  time  of  general  relaxa- 
tion to  the  Roman  authority  in  Syria.  The  policy  of 
Caligula,  until  he  lost  his  wits,  was  to  restore  a  certain 
local  independence  to  the  East  and  its  native  rulers. 
Thus  he  established  the  kingdoms,  or  principalities,  of 

^  Josephus,  Antiq.  xviii.  4:2. 
2  Ihid.  XV.  11 : 4;  xviii.  4:2;  xx.  1 : 1,  2. 

•  Compare  his  conduct  then  with  that  of  Festus,  related  in  Acts  xxiv. 
27 ;  XXV.  9. 


FIRST  PERSECUTION i  DEATH  OF  STEPHEN.         143 

Antiochus  in  Commagene,  of  Herod  Agrippa,  Soheym, 
Cotys,  and  Polemon  II.;  and  allowed  that  of  Hareth 
(Aretas)  at  Damascus  to  increase.^  When  Pilate  arrived 
in  Rome  (a.  d.  37),  he  found  the  new  reign  already  he- 
gun.  Caligula  probably  decided  against  him,  for  he 
gave  the  charge  of  Jerusalem  to  a  new  official,  Marul- 
lus,  who  seems  not  to  have  stirred  up  among  the  Jews 
such  violent  opposition  as  overwhelmed  the  unlucky 
Pilate,  and  brought  his  rule  to  grief.  The  same  had 
befallen  Ventidius  Cumanus ;  Josephus,  it  is  true,  ex- 
aggerates the  ill-fortune  of  all  who  had  opposed  his 
nation. 

The  thing  here  to  be  remarked,  meanwhile,  is  that  at 
this  period  the  persecutors  of  the  Christians  were  not 
the  Romans,  but  the  orthodox  Jews.  The  Romans, 
amid  all  fanaticism  and  intolerance,  maintained  a 
rational  toleration.  If  any  charge  is  to  be  made 
against  the  imperial  authority,  it  is  that  of  acting 
weakly,  and  not  cutting  short  at  once  the  breaches 
of  civil  order  caused  by  a  bloody  code  which  punished 
religious  offences  with  death.  But  the  Roman  domin- 
ion had  not  yet  the  complete  sovereignty  which  it  after- 
wards came  to  have ;  it  was  a  sort  of  protectorate,  or 
suzerainty.  Concession  was  carried  so  far  as  not  to 
offend  Jewish  pride  by  putting  the  emperor's  head  on 
coins  struck  under  the  procurators.^  Rome  did  not  as 
yet  attempt — certainlj^  not  in  the  East  —  to  impose 
her  own  laws,  deities,  and  customs  upon  the  conquered 
peoples,  but  left  to  them  their  local  usages  undisturbed 
by  the  Roman  code.     This  half-way  independence  was 

^  Suetonius  Caius,  16;  Dion  Cassius,  lix.  8, 12;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  5:3; 
6;  10;  2Cor.  xi.  32. 

*  Madden,  Hist,  of  Jewish  Coinage,  134. 


144  "^^^  APOSTLES. 

a  sufficient  mark  of  their  subjection.  The  imperial 
power  in  the  East  was  like  the  Turkish  rule  of  the 
present  day,  and  the  condition  of  the  native  popula- 
tions was  like  that  of  its  Christian  subjects.  The  idea 
of  equal  rights  and  equal  guaranties  for  all  did  not 
exist.  Each  provincial  group  had  its  special  jurisdic- 
tion, much  as  the  Jews  and  the  several  Christian 
churches  have  under  the  Ottoman  empire.  In  Turkey, 
a  few  years  ago,  the  several  Patriarchs  —  Greek,  Ar- 
menian, Syrian  —  slight  as  were  their  relations  with  the 
Porte,  were  sovereign  over  their  subordinates,  and  might 
pronounce  the  cruellest  penalties  against  them. 

The  death  of  Stephen  may  have  been  in  either  of  the 
years  36,  37,  or  38,  and  we  do  not  know  what  respon- 
sibility Caiaphas  may  have  had  in  it.  He  was  deposed 
by  Vitellius  in  36,  a  little  while  after  Pilate  ;  *  but  this 
made  little  change.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  brother- 
in-law  Jonathan,  son  of  Hanan ;  and  he,  in  his  turn, 
was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Theophilus,^  continuing 
the  high-priesthood  in  the  house  of  Hanan  till  42. 
Hanan  was  himself  still  living,  and,  as  the  real  holder 
of  the  power,  maintained  those  qualities  of  pride,  hard- 
ness, and  hatred  of  innovation,  which  were  hereditary 
in  that  house. 

The  death  of  Stephen  made  a  deep  impression.  The 
proselytes  accompanied  his  burial  with  tears  and  groans.^ 
The  separation  between  Jew  and  Christian  was  not  yet 
complete.  Proselytes  and  Hellenists,  less  strictly  or- 
thodox than  full-blooded  Jews,  thought  it  a  duty  to 
render  public  honours  to  a  man  who  did  honour  to  their 

^  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  4:3.  2  Ihid.  5  :  3. 

8  Acts  viii.  2.  The  term  "devout"  (evXa^fls)  denotes  a  proselyte: 
cf.  ii.  5. 


FIRST  PERSECUTION;  DEATH  OF  STEPHEN.         145 

class  ;  and  whose  personal  beliefs  had  not  put  him  out 
of  the  law. 

Thus  opens  the  era  of  the  Christian  Martyrs.  Mar- 
tyrdom was  not,  itself,  quite  a  new  thing.  Not  to  speak 
of  John  the  Baptist  and  Jesus,  Judaism  had  had  its  wit- 
nesses, faithful  unto  death,  in  the  time  of  Antiochus 
Epiphanes.  But  the  succession  of  noble  victims  that 
began  with  Saint  Stephen  has  had  a  very  special  influ- 
ence in  the  history  of  human  thought.  It  introduced 
into  the  Western  world  an  element  hitherto  lacking  in 
it,  —  exclusive  and  absolute  faith  ;  the  idea  that  there 
is  one  only  good  and  true  religion.  In  this  sense,  the 
era  of  martyrdom  introduced  the  era  of  intolerance. 
We  may  say,  without  being  far  from  the  truth,  that  one 
who  gives  his  life  for  his  faith  would  be  intolerant  if  he 
were  master.  Christianity,  which  had  undergone  three 
centuries  of  persecution,  when  it  came  to  dominion  in 
its  turn,  was  the  most  persecuting  of  all  religions. 
When  one  has  shed  his  own  blood  for  a  cause,  he  is  too 
ready  to  shed  others'  blood  to  keep  the  treasure  which 
he  has  won. 

And  besides,  the  cruel  death  of  Stephen  was  not  a 
solitary  case.  A  real  persecution  was  let  loose  upon 
the  Church  by  the  Jews,  now  trusting  in  the  weakness 
of  Roman  officials.^  These  troubles  seem  to  have  borne 
most  heavily  on  the  Hellenists  and  proselytes,  whose 
freedom  of  procedure  angered  the  orthodox.  The 
Church  at  Jerusalem,  compact  as  it  was,  was  forced  to 
scatter.  The  apostles  did  not  quit  the  capital,  follow- 
ing a  practice  which  they  seem  to  have  firmly  decided 

^  Acts  viii.  1-3;  xi.  19 ;  xxvi.  10.  This  last  would  imply  that  there 
were  other  deaths  than  that  of  Stephen,  but  the  passage  is  rhetoricaL 
Cf.  ix.  1,  2,  with  xxii.  5,  and  xxvi.  12. 

10 


146  THE  APOSTLES. 

on.*  It  is  also  probable  that  the  purely  Jewish  group, 
the  so-called  "  Hebrews,"  remained  with  them.^  But 
the  larger  Christian  community,  with  its  repasts  in 
common,  its  charitable  service  of  deacons,  and  its  va- 
ried exercises,  is  at  an  end  from  this  time  forth,  and 
was  never  reconstructed  on  the  former  model.  It 
had  now  lasted  two  or  three  years.  And,  for  Chris- 
tianity still  in  its  cradle,  it  was  an  unexampled  good 
fortune  that  its  first  communistic  attempts  at  organisa- 
tion were  thus  broken  short  off.  Attempts  of  this  sort 
lead  to  abuses  so  shocking  that  all  communistic  forms 
of  association  are  doomed  to  be  short-lived,  —  as  was 
the  case  with  the  Essenes,  —  or  very  soon  to  fall  away 
from  the  principles  of  their  foundation,  as  happened  to 
the  Franciscan  Order.  Thanks  to  this  persecution  of 
A.  D.  37,  the  monastery-church  at  Jerusalem  was  spared 
the  test  of  time.  It  fell  apart  in  the  flower  of  its  days, 
before  it  had  been  honeycombed  by  its  home  difficulties. 
It  survived  only  as  a  splendid  dream,  whose  memory 
enlivened  in  their  season  of  trial  those  who  had  had 
part  in  it ;  as  an  ideal,  to  which  Christianity  will  ever- 
more aspire  without  attaining  (1  Thess.  ii.  14).^  Great 
lives  most  often  have  their  root  in  the  experience  of 
some  few  months  during  which  they  have  felt  the 
Divine  presence,  months  whose  fragrance  is  enough  to 
fill  whole  years  with  strength  and  sweetness. 

In  the  persecution  now  referred  to,  the  leading  part 

1  Acts  i.  4;  viii.  1,  14;  Gal.  i.  17-20. 

2  Thus  compare  the  expressions  in  Acts  viii.  1  with  those  in  ix.  26-30. 
'  Those  who  know  what  an  inestimable  treasure  to  the  survivors  of 

the  St.  Simonist  church  is  the  memory  of  Menilmontant,  —  what  mutual 
affection  it  creates,  and  what  joy  glistens  in  their  eyes  when  they  speak  of 
him,  —  will  understand  how  strong  a  bond  it  is  among  brethren  in  a  new 
faith,  to  have  loved,  and  then  suffered,  together. 


FIRST  PERSECUTION;  DEATH  OF  STEPHEN.         147 

was  taken  by  that  young  man  Saul,  who  has  been  seen 
as  an  accomplice  (so  far  as  in  him  lay)  in  the  death  of 
Stephen.  This  maniac,^  armed  with  a  permit  by  the 
priests,  entered  houses  thought  to  harbour  Christians, 
laid  violent  hands  upon  men  and  women,  and  dragged 
them  to  prison  or  before  the  courts.^  It  was  his  boast 
that  no  man  of  his  time  had  been  as  zealous  as  he  for 
the  traditions.^  Often,  indeed,  he  wag  astonished  at 
the  sweetness  and  resignation  of  his  victims,  and  felt 
for  them  a  pity  bordering  on  remorse,  fancying  himself 
to  hear  those  pious  women,  whom  he  had  cast  into 
prison  for  their  hope  of  the  divine  kingdom,  saying  to 
him  softly  by  night,  "  Why  dost  thou  persecute  us  ?  '* 
The  blood  of  Stephen,  which  had  nearly  stained  his 
own  garments,  would  at  times  trouble  his  sight.  Many 
things  which  he  had  heard  of  Jesus  went  to  his  heart. 
He  was,  as  it  were,  haunted  by  the  phantom  of  that 
more  than  man,  dwelling  in  the  heavenly  life,  from 
which  he  would  descend  in  vision  from  time  to  time. 
But  such  thoughts  Saul  would  put  from  him  with  hor- 
ror, with  frenzied  effort  confirming  himself  in  the  faith 
of  his  tradition,  and  scheming  fresh  cruelties  against 
those  who  assailed  that  faith.  His  name  became  a 
word  of  terror  to  the  disciples.  From  him  they  dreaded 
the  most  awful  deeds  of  violence,  and  the  bloodiest  acts 
of  perfidy.* 

1  So  he  speaks  of  himself  (ifiiuuvofitvos),  in  Acts  xxvi.  11. 

2  Acts  viii.  3 ;  ix.  13,  14,  21,  26 ;  xxii.  4,  19 ;  xxvi.  9-11 ;  Gal.  L  13, 
23 ;  1  Cor.  xv.  9;  Phil.  iii.  6;  1  Tim.  i.  45. 

8  Gal.  i.  14;  Acts  xxvi.  5;  Phil.  iii.  5. 
*  Acts  ix.  13,  21,  26. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FIRST   MISSIONS  ;     PHILIP   THE   DEACON.  —  A.  D.  38. 

The  persecution  of  A.  d.  37  brought  about,  as  such 
acts  always  do,  an  extension  of  the  doctrine  which  it 
sought  to  check.  Till  now,  the  proclamation  of  Chris- 
tianity had  scarce  been  heard  beyond  the  walls  of  Jeru- 
salem. No  mission  had  been  set  on  foot ;  the  mother 
church,  shut  up  in  her  lofty  but  narrow  communism, 
had  shed  no  ray  outward,  and  had  formed  no  centres 
of  enlargement  for  its  work.  The  dispersion  of  this 
little  group  of  the  upper  chamber  scattered  the  good 
seed  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  Members  of  the 
church  at  Jerusalem,  forced  by  violence  from  their 
retreat,  spread  through  all  parts  of  Judaea  and  Sama- 
ria,^ everywhere  preaching  the  kingdom  of  God.  The 
deacons,  in  particular,  lightened  of  their  administrative 
charge  by  the  ruin  of  their  community,  became  admira- 
ble propagators  of  the  gospel.  They  were  the  youthful 
and  active  element  of  the  body,  as  distinct  from  the 
somewhat  weightier  and  slower  portion  made  up  of  the 
apostles  and  the  "  Hebrews."  In  the  work  of  preach- 
ing, their  language  alone  put  these  latter  at  a  disadvan- 
tage. Their  ordinary  speech,  if  not  their  only  speech, 
was  a  dialect  which  the  Jews  themselves  hardly  made 
use  of  at  a  few  leagues'  distance  from  Jerusalem.     The 

^  Acts  viii.  1 ;  xi.  19. 


FIRST  MISSIONS;  PHILIP   THE  DEACON.  149 

Hellenists  reaped  all  the  honour  of  the  grand  achieve- 
ment which  it  will  now  be  my  purpose  to  relate. 

The  scene  of  the  first  of  those  missions  which  were 
soon  to  cover  all  the  circuit  of  the  Mediterranean  was 
the  region  close  to  Jerusalem,  within  a  circle  of  two  or 
three  days'  travel.  The  deacon  Philip^  was  the  chief 
actor  in  this  first  pious  expedition.  He  taught  the 
word  in  Samaria  with  great  success.  The  Samaritans 
were  schismatics;  but  the  new  sect,  like  its  Master, 
was  less  scrupulous  on  points  of  orthodoxy  than  the 
stricter  Jews.  Jesus  had  on  several  occasions  shown 
himself  friendly  to  Samaritans.^ 

Philip  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  most  engaged 
in  the  working  of  wonders  in  the  apostolic  circle 
(Acts  viii.  5-40).  The  conversions  he  made  among  the 
Samaritans,  especially  at  Sebaste,  their  capital,  are 
explained  by  miracle.  The  region  itself  was  full  of 
superstitious  notions  about  magic.  Some  two  years 
before  the  coming  of  the  Christian  preachers  (a.  d.  36) 
a  fanatic  had  stirred  up  serious  emotion  among  the 
Samaritans  by  insisting  on  the  need  of  returning  to 
primitive  Mosaism,  asserting  that  he  had  discovered 

1  Acts  viii.  5-13.  This  was  not  Philip  the  apostle:  see  viii.  1,  5,  12, 
14,  40 ;  xxi.  8.  It  is  true  that,  comparing  Acts  xxi.  9  (which  speaks  of 
Philip's  four  daughters),  with  what  is  said  by  Papias  and  Polycrates 
(Euseb.  iii.  39 ;  v.  24),  and  by  Clement  of  Alexandria  (Strom,  iii.  6),  the 
apostle  is  made  to  appear  the  same  with  him  who  plays  so  important  a 
part  in  Acts.  But  that  verse  is  to  be  taken  as  an  interpolation  and  a 
misunderstanding,  rather  than  contradict  the  tradition  of  the  churches 
in  Asia,  and  especially  Hierapolis  [see  "Antichrist,"  pp.  273-276].  The 
Fourth  Gospel  (written,  probably,  in  Asia  Minor)  indicates  sources  of 
information  respecting  the  apostle  Philip,  which  would  thus  be  easily 
explained. 

2  "Life  of  Jesus,"  chap.  xiv.  But  it  may  be  that  the  writer  here 
indicates  a  disposition  of  his  own:  see  Introd.  (above),  12,  24,  and  pp. 
154, 187  (below). 


150 


THE  APOSTLES. 


the  original  sacred  implements.^  One  Simon,  from 
Gitton  or  Gitta,^  who  afterwards  attained  high  repute, 
began  about  that  time  to  be  known  by  his  so-called 
magic  acts.^  It  is  a  pity  to  find  a  preparation  and 
a  support  for  the  gospel  teaching  in  such  chimeras. 
Many  were  baptised  in  the  name  of  Jesus.  Philip  was 
competent  for  baptism,  but  not  for  conferring  the  gifts 
of  the  Spirit,  which  lay  exclusively  with  the  apostles. 
When  the  forming  of  a  company  of  disciples  at  Sebaste 
became  known  at  Jerusalem,  it  was  resolved  to  send 
Peter  and  John  to  complete  their  initiation.  They 
came,  laid  their  hands  upon  the  heads  of  the  new 
converts,  with  prayers;  and  these  were  at  once  en- 
dowed with  the  marvellous  powers  appertaining  to  the 
bestowal  of  the  Spirit,  —  miracles,  prophecy,  and  all 
the  phenomena  of  illuminism.  In  this  regard,  then, 
the  church  at  Sebaste  was  noway  inferior  to  that  in 
Jerusalem. 

If  we  may  believe  the  tradition,  Simon  of  Gitton 
was  at  this  time  in  near  relation  with  the  Christians, 
having  been  converted  by  Philip's  miracles,  baptised, 
and  attached  to  this  evangelist.  Then,  on  the  arrival 
of  Peter  and  John,  he  witnessed  the  marvellous  powers 
conferred  by  the  imposition  of  hands  \  and,  it  is  said, 

1  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  1,  2. 

2  Xow  Jit,  on  the  road  from  Naplous  to  JafEa  (Robinson,  iii.  134). 

*  All  we  know  of  this  Siraon,  from  Christian  sources,  is  so  mixed  with 
fable  that  some  have  doubted  his  existence,  —  the  more,  since  in  tlie  later 
pseudo-Clementine  writings  the  name  is  a  pseudonym  of  Paul.  But  this 
is  not  the  only  basis  of  the  legend.  How  should  the  writer  of  Acts,  so 
friendly  to  Paul,  admit  a  story  so  open  to  a  hostile  construction  ?  The 
later  stoiy  of  the  Simonian  school,  its  writings  still  extant,  and  the  precise 
indications  of  time  and  locality  given  by  Justin,  a  fellow-countryman 
{Apol.  ii.  15 ;  Tryph.  120),  are  not  easily  acounted  for  on  the  theory  that 
the  whole  account  is  fable. 


FIRST  MISSIONS  J  PHILIP   THE  DEACON.  151 

came  to  them  with  the  offer  of  money  in  case  he  too 
might  receive  the  gift  of  bestowing  such  powers  as 
these.  To  which  they  made  the  admirable  reply, 
"  Thy  money  perish  with  thee,  because  thou  thoughtest 
that  the  gift  of  God  might  be  purchased  with  money ! 
Thou  hast  neither  part  nor  lot  in  this  matter,  for  thy 
heart  is  not  right  with  God  !  "     (Acts  viii.  9-24.) 

Whether  these  words  were  really  spoken  or  not,  they 
seem  to  express  the  true  relation  of  Simon  toward  the 
growing  sect.  We  shall  see,  indeed,  that  he  was  the 
leader  of  a  religious  movement  parallel  with  that 
of  Christianity,  which  may  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of 
Samaritan  counterfeit  of  the  work  of  Jesus.  Had 
Simon  already  begun  his  dogmatising  and  wonder- 
working when  Philip  first  came  into  Samaria?  Had 
he  any  real  connection  with  the  Christian  Church  ?  Is 
there  any  truth  in  the  story  which  makes  him  the 
father  of  all  "  Simony  "  ?  Are  we  to  believe  that  the 
world  once  saw  face  to  face  two  wonder-workers,  one 
of  them  a  charlatan  and  the  other  the  "  Rock  "  which 
was  the  corner  stone  of  the  faith  of  mankind  ?  Could 
a  sorcerer  thus  hold  in  the  balance  the  destinies  of 
Christianity  ?  All  this  we  know  not,  for  lack  of  docu- 
mentary evidence;  the  Book  of  Acts  is  here  of  weak 
authority,  and  even  in  the  first  century  Simon  was 
already  a  legendary  person  to  the  Christian  Church. 
In  history,  the  general  thought  alone  may  be  safely 
trusted.  It  would  be  wrong  to  stop  short  with  the 
shock  we  may  feel  at  this  wretched  page  of  the  Chris- 
tian annals.  For  rude  hearers  the  miracle  proves  the 
doctrine ;  on  our  part,  the  doctrine  may  persuade  us  to 
forget  the  miracle.  When  a  belief  has  comforted  and 
bettered  mankind,  it  may  be  pardoned  for  having  made 


rs2  THE  APOSTLES. 

use  of  proofs  adapted  to  the  weak  understanding  of  the 
people  it  addressed.  But  what  pardon  can  be  allowed 
to  error  as  the  proof  of  error  ?  We  are  not  here  pro- 
nouncing condemnation  upon  Simon  of  Gitton.  We 
shall  hereafter  attempt  to  explain  his  doctrine  and  his 
place  in  history,  which  were  not  made  clear  until  the 
reign  of  Claudius.^  We  have  here  had  only  to  remark 
that  an  important  principle  seems  through  him  to  have 
been  brought  to  bear  upon  the  so-called  Christian  mira- 
cles. Forced  to  admit  that  impostors  also  wrought 
miracles,  orthodox  theology  ascribed  these  miracles  to 
evil  spirits.  Then,  in  order  to  preserve  some  value  as 
proofs  to  miracles  as  such,  rules  must  be  made  to  dis- 
tinguish the  true  from  the  false.  And  for  this,  a 
descent  must  be  made  to  a  level  of  mere  puerility.^ 

Having  thus  strengthened  the  church  at  Sebaste, 
Peter  and  John  returned  to  Jerusalem,  preaching  on 
the  way  among  the  villages  of  Samaria.  The  deacon 
Philip  extended  his  missionary  journey  toward  the 
south  in  the  old  territory  of  the  Philistines  (Acts  viii. 
26-40).  This  region,  since  the  time  of  the  Maccabees, 
had  been  much  divided  up  among  the  Jews,  who  did 
not,  however,  gain  complete  control.^  On  the  way, 
Philip  wrought  a  conversion  which  was  widely  spoken 
of  on  account  of  a  special  circumstance.  One  day,  as 
he  was  proceeding  along  the  rarely  travelled  road  that 
runs  from  Jerusalem  to  Gaza,^  he  met  a  rich  wayfarer, 
evidently  a  stranger,  since  he  was  riding  in  a  vehicle,  a 

1  Justin,  Apol.  i.  26,  56. 

^  See  the  Clementine  Homilies,  xvii.  15,  17;  Quadratus  in  Easeb.  iv.  3. 
«  1  Mace.  X.  86,  89;  xi.  60;  Jos.  Ant.  xiii.  19:  3;  xv.  7:  3;  xviii. 
11 :  5 ;    War,  i.  4  :  2. 

*  Robinson,  ii,  41,  514,  515  (2d  ed.). 


FIRST  MISSIONS  J  PHILIP   THE  DEACON.  153 

thing  then  almost  unknown  among  the  inhabitants  of 
Syria  and  Palestine.  He  was  returning  from  Jerusalem, 
and,  sitting  at  his  ease,  was  reading  aloud  from  the 
Hebrew  scriptures,  after  a  common  custom  of  the  time.-^ 
Philip,  who  thought  himself  under  divine  guidance  in 
every  act,  felt  himself  drawn  to  accost  the  traveller. 
Walking  by  his  side,  he  civilly  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  this  richly  dressed  personage,  offering  to 
explain  the  texts  which  he  found  too  difficult.  To  the 
evangelist  this  was  a  happy  occasion  to  set  forth  the 
Christian  interpretation  of  the  Old  Testament  figures 
of  speech.  Thus  he  showed  how  everything  in  the 
prophetic  books  referred  to  Jesus ;  that  Jesus  was  the 
key  to  the  enigma,  and  of  him  especially  the  Seer  had 
spoken  in  the  tender  passage :  "  He  was  brought  as  a 
sheep  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  lamb  is  dumb  before 
its  shearer,  he  opened  not  his  mouth "  (Isa.  liii.  7). 
The  traveller  accepted  this  exposition ;  and  at  the  first 
spring  they  found,  "  See,  here  is  water,"  said  he ;  "  is 
there  anything  to  prevent  my  being  baptised  ?  "  The 
chariot  was  stayed ;  Philip  went  down  into  the  water 
with  the  stranger,  who  was  at  once  baptised. 

Now  this  traveller  was  a  man  of  consequence,  a 
eunuch  (chamberlain)  of  the  Princess  {Candace)  of  Ethi- 
opia, her  minister  of  finance  and  keeper  of  her  treasury, 
who  had  gone  up  to  worship  at  Jerusalem,  and  was  on 
his  return  to  Napata  ^  by  way  of  Egypt.  Candace  (or 
candaoce)  was  at  this  period  the  feminine  title  of  roy- 
alty in  Ethiopia.^     Judaism  had  then  penetrated  into 

1  Bab.  Talm.,  Erubin,  34  a,  53  h;  Sofa,  46  b. 

2  Now  Merawi,  near  Gebel-Barkal :  Lepsius,  Denkmdler;  Strabo, 
xvii.  1:  54. 

8  Strabo,  xvii.  1 :  54 ;  Pliny,  vi.  35 :  8 ;  Dion  Cassias,  liv.  5 ;  Euseb.  ii.  1. 


154  THE  APOSTLES. 

Nubia  and  Abyssinia,  where  many  of  the  natives  had 
been  converted,^  or  at  least  were  reckoned  among  the 
proselytes  who,  without  circumcision,  worshipped  the 
One  God.^  The  eunuch  was  perhaps  of  this  latter 
class,  —  a  candid  pious  pagan,  like  the  centurion  Corne- 
lius, who  appears  in  this  history  at  a  little  later  date. 
We  cannot,  at  all  events,  suppose  him  fully  initiated 
in  Judaism;^  and,  after  this  incident,  he  is  not  further 
heard  of.  But  PhiHp  related  the  occurrence,  which 
was  afterwards  regarded  as  important.  When  the 
admission  of  pagans  to  the  Christian  Church  came  to 
be  debated,  this  proved  a  weighty  precedent,  since 
Philip  was  regarded  as  having  acted  throughout  by 
divine  guidance  (Acts  viii.  26,  29).  Baptism  conferred, 
by  direct  command  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  upon  a  man 
hardly  even  a  Jew  and  notoriously  uncircumcised,  a 
convert  of  a  few  hours  at  most,  had  great  dogmatic 
value  as  an  argument  for  those  who  thought  that  the 
doors  of  the  new  Church  should  be  open  to  all.* 

After  this  occurrence  Philip  proceeded  to  Azotus  (or 
Ashdod).  In  the  childlike  enthusiasm  comnion  among 
these  missionaries,  they  were  ready  at  every  step  to 
listen  to  a  voice  from  heaven,  or  to  take  instructions 

*  Descendants  of  these  Jewish  converts  (not  of  Israelite  blood)  are 
still  found,  under  the  name  Falasydn.  They  were  converted  by  mis- 
sionaries from  Egypt,  and  their  version  of  the  Bible  was  made  fiom  the 
Greek. 

2  Johnxii.  20;  Acts  x.  2. 

'  See  Deut.  xxiii.  1.  The  word  "eunuch"  may,  it  is  true,  be  taken 
to  designate  a  chamberlain  or  court-functionary;  but  should  be  here 
understood  in  its  literal  sense. 

*  It  would  be  rash  to  infer  that  the  story  was  fabricated  by  the  writer 
of  Acts.  He,  it  is  true,  gladly  puts  in  relief  the  facts  which  sustain  his 
own  opinion,  but  cannot  be  fairly  charged  with  inserting  as  fact  what  was 
purely  symbolic  or  imaginary  (see  Introd.  pp.  38,  39). 


FIRST  MISSIONS  J   PHILIP   THE  DEACON.  155 

from  the  Spirit.*  Every  step  seemed  to  them  to  be 
directed  by  a  higher  power,  and  they  thought  them- 
selves to  obey  a  superhuman  guidance  when  they  went 
from  one  village  to  another.  Sometimes  they  fancied 
that  they  were  wafted  through  the  air;  thus  Philip  — 
one  of  the  most  exalted,  who  thought  he  had  been  led 
by  an  angel  to  the  spot  where  he  met  the  eunuch  — 
was  persuaded  that  he  had  been  "  caught  up  "  by  the 
Spirit,  and  transported  in  a  flash  to  Azotus.^ 

This  was  the  southern  limit  of  the  first  preaching 
of  the  gospel.  Beyond  this  were  the  desert  and  the 
nomadic  life,  upon  which  Christianity  has  never  had 
much  hold.  From  Azotus  Philip  turned  northward, 
evangelising  all  the  coast  as  far  as  Caesarea.  It  may 
be  that  the  churches  of  Joppa  and  Lydda,  which  we 
soon  find  quite  flourishing  (ix.  32,  38),  were  founded  by 
him.  He  remained  at  Caesarea,  where  he  founded  an 
important  church  (viii.  40,  xi.  11),  and  where  we  find 
him  twenty  years  later  (xxi.  8).  This  was  a  new  city, 
and  the  most  important  in  Judaea.^  It  had  been  built 
on  the  site  of  a  Sidonian  fortress,  called  "tower  of 
Abdastarte  or  Strato,"  by  Herod  the  Great,  who,  in 
honour  of  Augustus,  gave  it  the  name  which  its  ruins 
still  bear.  It  was  far  the  best  port  in  all  Palestine, 
and  was  fast  tending  to  become  the  real  capital.  The 
procurators  of  Judaea,  weary  of  staying  in  Jerusalem, 
were  soon  to  make  Caesarea  their  customary  residence.* 
Its  population  was  chiefly  made  up  of  pagans;^  and 

^  So  among  the  Mormons  (see  Remy)  and  missionaries  of  other  faiths 
[as  is  constantly  illustrated  among  the  early  colonists  of  New  England]. 
2  Acts  viii.  39,  40;  comp.  Luke  iv.  14. 

*  Jos.  War,  iii.  9:1. 

*  Acts  xxiii.  23;  xxv.  1,  5;  Tacitus,  Hist.  ii.  79. 

*  Jos.  War,  iii.  9 :  1. 


156  THE  APOSTLES. 

savage  quarrels  often  broke  out  between  the  different 
classes.^  Greek  was  the  only  language  commonly 
spoken,  and  even  the  Jews  had  learned  to  recite  some 
portions  of  their  liturgy  in  Greek.^  The  austere  rabbis 
of  Jerusalem  regarded  it  as  an  abode  ungodly  and 
dangerous,  where  one  became  almost  a  pagan .^  For 
the  various  reasons  just  given,  Caesarea  will  be  a  place 
of  much  consequence  in  the  sequel  of  this  history.  It 
became  the  especial  Christian  port,  through  which  the 
church  at  Jerusalem  communicated  with  the  Greek  and 
Roman  world. 

Many  other  missions,  unknown  to  our  history,  were 
conducted  on  the  same  lines  with  that  of  Philip  (Acts 
xi.  19).  This  first  Christian  preaching  won  success  by 
the  very  rapidity  of  its  course.  In  38,  five  years  after 
the  death  of  Jesus,  one  year  after  that  of  Stephen,  all 
Palestine  this  side  the  Jordan  had  heard  the  good  news 
from  the  lips  of  missionaries  sent  forth  from  Jerusalem. 
Galilee  preserved  its  own  sacred  seed,  which  it  prob- 
ably spread  beyond  its  borders,  though  we  know  no 
missions  of  its  sending.  Possibly  Damascus,  in  which 
Christians  were  already  found  (ix.  2,  10,  19),  may  have 
received  the  faith  from  GalilaBan  preachers. 

1  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  8:  7;  War,  ii.  13:  5-14:  5;  18:  4. 

2  Jerus.  Talm.  Sola,  21  h. 

•  Jos.  .4»i<.  xix.  7:  3,  4;  8:  2. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   CONVERSION   OF   PAUL.  —  A.  D.  38. 

But  quite  another  conquest  was  won  to  the  Church  in 
the  succeeding  year  (38).*  "We  may  with  all  proba- 
bility place  in  this  year  the  conversion  of  that  Saul 
whom  we  have  seen  as  an  accomplice  in  the  stoning  of 
Stephen,  and  as  chief  actor  in  the  persecution  of  37 ; 
who,  by  a  mysterious  stroke  of  grace,  will  be  hereafter 
found  the  most  ardent  among  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 

Saul  was  born  at  Tarsus  in  Cilicia,^  in  the  tenth  or 
twelfth  year  of  our  era ;  for,  in  the  epistle  to  Philemon 
(ver.  9),  written  about  a.  d.  61,  he  speaks  of  himself  as 
"  aged  "  {'7rpe(r^vT7}<;) ;  while,  referring  to  events  in  37, 
he  is  called  "  a  young  man  "  {veavLa<;,  Acts  vii.  57). 
Following  the  custom  of  the  time,  his  name  had  been 
Latinised  as  "  Paul "  :  thus  Jesus  (Joshua)  was  often 
changed  to  Jason,  Joseph  to  Hegesippus,  and  Eliakim 
to  Alkimus ;  ^  but  by  this  name  he  was  not  usually 
called  until  he  became  known  as  the  apostle  to  the  Gen- 
tiles, after  which  it  becomes  constant,  and  is  so  given 
in  the  subscription  to  all  his  epistles.     He  was  of  the 

*  The  date  may  be  inferred  by  comparing  Acts  ix.,  xi.,  xii.  with  Gala- 
tians  i.  18,  ii.  1,  especially  by  observing  the  coincidence  of  events  in  Acts 
chap.  xii.  with  those  of  secular  history,  fixing  their  date  at  a.  d.  44. 

2  Acts  ix.  11,  xxi.  39,  xxii.  3. 

'  Jerome  (De  vir.  ill.)  supposes  that  Paul  took  the  Latin  name  of  Ser- 
gius  Paulus,  the  proconsul  of  Cyprus  (Acts  xiii.  9),  his  first  illustrious 
convert.    But  this  explanation  seems  unwarrantable. 


158  THE  APOSTLES. 

purest  Jewish  blood,  Ebionite  calumnies  (recorded  by 
Epiphanius)  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  His  fam- 
ily was  perhaps  (as  Jerome  records)  from  the  town  of 
Gischala  in  Galilee,  but  claimed  to  belong  to  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin  (Rom.  xi.  1 ;  Phil.  iii.  6).  His  father  was 
registered  as  a  Roman  citizen  (Acts  xxii.  28).  Some 
one  of  his  ancestors  had  probably  purchased  this  title 
or  had  earned  it  by  services :  for  example,  his  grand- 
father may  have  obtained  it  by  aid  given  to  Pompey  in 
the  Judaean  conquest  of  b.  c.  63.  As  with  all  the  good 
old  Jewish  houses,  his  family  belonged  to  the  party  of 
the  Pharisees  (Acts  xxiii.  6).  Paul  was  brought  up  in 
the  strictest  practices  of  this  sect  (Phil.  iii.  5 ;  Acts 
xxvi.  5) ;  and,  if  he  afterwards  rejected  its  narrow 
dogmas,  he  always  kept  its  ardent  faith,  its  severe 
and  exalted  temper. 

In  the  time  of  Augustus,  Tarsus  was  a  very  flourish- 
ing city.  The  population  belonged  chiefly  to  the  Greek 
or  Syrian  (Aramaean)  race ;  but,  as  in  all  towns  of  com- 
mercial consequence,  Jews  were  very  numerous.  Learn- 
ing and  science  were  here  a  favourite  pursuit.  No 
other  city  in  the  world,  Athens  and  Alexandria  not 
excepted,  was  so  rich  in  schools  and  scientific  insti- 
tutions ;  ^  and  Tarsus  was  famed  for  the  number  of 
learned  men  trained  in  its  schools.^  But  we  need  not 
infer  from  this  that  Paul  had  received  a  very  careful 
education  in  Greek  letters.  Jews  rarely  frequented 
institutions  of  Gentile  learning,  and  the  most  famous 
schools  of  Tarsus  were  those  of  rhetoric.^    The  first 

1  Strabo,  xiv.  10  :  13. 

2  Ibid.  10:  14,  15;  Philostr.  ApoUonius,  7. 

^  Jos.  Antiq.  (closing  paxagraph);  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  pp.  101, 102;  Phi- 
lostr. u.  s. 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  159 

thing  to  be  learned  in  these  schools  was  the  classic 
Greek.  We  cannot  suppose  that  a  man  who  had  been 
taught  even  the  element  of  grammar  and  rhetoric  would 
have  written  in  the  uncouth,  inaccurate  style,  void  of 
all  Greek  finish,  which  we  find  in  the  epistles  of  Paul. 
He  spoke  Greek  habitually  and  easily;^  he  wrote  or 
rather  dictated,^  in  that  tongue ;  but  his  Greek  was 
that  of  the  hellenising  Jews,  a  Greek  laden  with  Hebrew 
and  Syriac  forms  of  speech,  hardly  intelligible  to  a  Greek 
man  of  letters,  which  we  can  understand  only  by  hunt- 
ing up  the  Syriac  phrase  that  Paul  had  in  his  mind  when 
dictating.  He  himself  admits  (2  Cor.  xi.  6)  the  rude 
and  popular  quality  of  his  style.  When  he  could,  he 
spoke  Hebrew,  so-called ;  that  is,  the  Syro-Chaldaic  of 
his  time  (Acts  xxi.  40).^  That  is  the  language  in  which 
he  spoke,  the  language  of  the  inward  voice  he  heard  on 
the  road  to  Damascus  (Acts  xxvi.  14). 

No  more  does  his  doctrine  show  any  direct  indebted- 
ness to  the  Greek  philosophy.  His  citation  (1  Cor.  xv. 
33)  of  a  verse  from  Menander's  Thais'^  —  "evil  com- 
munications corrupt  good  manners  "  —  is  one  of  the 
one-line  proverbs  that  are  in  everybody's  mouth,  and 
may  easily  be  quoted  without  any  knowledge  of  their 
source.  Two  other  citations,  —  one  from  Epimenides 
(Tit.  i,  12),  that  "  the  Cretans  are  always  liars,"  and 
one  from  Aratus  (Acts  xvii.  28),  that  "  we  are  also  His 
offspring,"  —  are  not  certainly  his  own  :  the  epistle  to 
Titus  is  of  doubtful  authorship ;  and  the  speech  of  Paul 

1  Acts  xvii.  22-28 ;  xxi.  37. 

2  Gal.  vi.  11 ;  Rom.  xvi.  22. 

*  The  term  c/Spatari  is  explained  in  my  Hist,  des  langues  Semit.,  ii.  1: 
5;  iii.  1 :  2. 

*  See  Meinecke,  Menandri  fragmenta,  p.  75. 


i6o  THE  APOSTLES. 

at  Athens  (so  called)  was  more  probably  composed  by  the 
writer  of  "  Acts,''  and  the  citation  from  Aratus  {Phoen. 
5)  is  also  found  in  the  well  known  hymn  of  Cleanthes, 
taken  perhaps  by  both  from  some  nameless  religious 
composition.  Paul's  culture  is  almost  wholly  Jewish 
(Gal.  i.  14) ;  parallels  are  to  be  found  rather  in  the 
Talmud  than  in  the  Greek  classics.  All  that  reached 
him  were  a  few  general  ideas,  taken  from  the  philoso- 
phers into  the  common  stock,  which  one  might  know 
without  having  opened  a  single  book  of  Greek  philoso- 
phy. Certainly,  he  knew  nothing  of  the  Aristotelian 
logic.  His  form  of  argument  is  noway  indebted  to  that 
method,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  very  like  that  in 
the  Talmud.  In  his  reasoning,  Paul  is  governed  more 
by  words  than  thoughts ;  a  word  lodged  in  his  mind 
controls  him,  and  leads  him  into  a  line  of  thought  far 
away  from  his  main  object.  His  transitions  are  abrupt, 
his  line  of  thought  is  broken,  and  his  sentence  often 
remains  unfinished.  There  was  never  a  more  unequal 
writer.  In  all  literature  it  would  be  hard  to  find  so 
strange  a  case  as  his,  of  a  noble  passage  like  the 
chapter  on  Charity  (1  Cor.  xiii.)  side  by  side  with 
weak  reasoning,  tedious  repetitions,  and  hair-splitting 
casuistry. 

His  father  early  destined  him  to  be  a  rabbi,  but, 
as  the  custom  was,^  gave  him  first  a  trade.  Paul 
was  by  occupation  a  "tent-maker"  (cr/cryi^oTrotd?,  Acts 
xviii.  3),  which  we  should  perhaps  understand  as  a  car- 
pet-weaver, or  one  who  wrought  in  those  coarse  Cilician 
fabrics  woven  of  goat's-hair,  called  cilicia?    This  trade 

1  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  130. 

'  These  fabrics  were  weatherproof,  and  were  used  "  for  horse-cloths, 
tents,  sacks,  and  bags  to  hold  workmen's  tools,  and  for  the  purpose  of 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  i6i 

he  would  exerciseupon  occasion,^  as  he  inherited  no  for- 
tune from  his  father.  He  had  at  least  one  sister,  whose 
son  lived  in  Jerusalem  (Acts  xxiii.  16).  Certain  vague 
and  doubtful  hints  seem  to  show  that  a  brother  and 
other  relations  ^  of  his  accepted  Christianity. 

It  would  be  thoroughly  wrong  to  infer  from  our  modern 
ways  of  thinking,  which  closely  associates  wealth  and 
manners,  that  Paul,  because  he  was  a  man  of  the  people, 
was  ill  bred  and  without  distinction.  When  he  chose, 
he  exhibited  extreme  courtesy  and  even  refinement  of 
manner.  For  all  his  lack  of  finish  in  style,  his  letters 
(especially  that  to  Philemon)  show  a  man  of  fine  intel- 
ligence, his  lofty  tone  of  feeling  being  expressed  with 
rare  felicity  of  phrase.  No  correspondence  ever  showed 
finer  traces  of  personal  regard,  a  more  delicate  touch, 
a  kindlier  anxiety  to  avoid  all  occasion  of  offence.  One 
or  two  of  his  pleasantries,  it  is  true,  offend  us.^  But 
what  spirit,  what  a  tone,  what  wealth  of  charming 
phrases !  We  feel  that,  unless  an  impetuous  temper 
should  for  the  moment  make  him  irritable  and  harsh, 
his  true  disposition  was  that  of  a  man  courteous,  affec- 
tionate, solicitous  to  please,  sometimes  thin-skinned,  and 
a  little  jealous.  Such  men  are  at  a  disadvantage  before 
the  public  eye ;  he  hints  (2  Cor.  x.  10)  that  his  adver- 
saries found  "  his  bodily  presence  weak  and  his  speech 
contemptible."  But,  in  the  seclusion  of  their  little  con- 
gregations, the  same  men  have  vast  advantages  through 
the  warm  affection  they  inspire,  their  apt  skill  in  mat- 
covering  military  engines,"  etc.  (Smith's  Diet,  of  Antiquities).  We  should 
therefore  call  Paul  a  "  hand-loom  weaver  "  of  the  coarser  fabrics.  —  Ed. 

1  Acts  xviii.  3;  1  Cor.  iv.  12 ;  1  Thess.  ii.  9 ;  2  Thess.  iii.  8. 

2  2  Cor.  viii.  18,  22;  xii.  18;  Rom.  xvi.  7,  11,  21  (see  note,  p.  108). 

8  Gal.  V.  12 ;  Phil.  iii.  2  [sardonic  jests  on  the  practice  of  circumcision]. 

11 


i62  THE  APOSTLES. 

ters  of  practice,  and  their  aptitude  in  finding  their  way 
out  of  the  gravest  difficulties. 

Paul  was  of  inferior  personal  presence,  not  corre- 
sponding (it  appears)  with  the  grandeur  of  his  soul.  He 
was  homely  in  feature,  short  in  stature,  thickset,  with 
stooping  shoulders,  a  small  bald  head,  oddly  set  on  his 
sturdy  frame,  and  a  pale  face  taken  possession  of  (as  it 
were)  by  a  thick  beard,  an  aquiline  nose,  keen  eyes,  and 
black  beetle-brows,  meeting  in  the  middle.^  Nor  was 
his  manner  of  speech  impressive;^  something  timid,  hesi- 
tating, incorrect,  gave  an  unfavourable  first  impression 
of  his  oratory ;  though,  as  a  man  of  tact,  he  dwelt  upon 
his  own  outer  defects,  and  even  made  them  an  advan- 
tage.^ The  Jewish  race  is  noticeable  for  giving  us 
specimens  at  once  of  the  noblest  beauty  and  the  com- 
pletest  ugliness;  but  this  is  an  ugliness  peculiarly  its 
own.  One  of  these  extraordinary  faces,  which  at  first 
sight  excites  a  smile,  may  lighten  up,  and  then  it  dis- 
plays a  marvellous  sombre  glow  and  majesty. 

Paul's  temperament  was  no  less  singular  than  his 
person.  His  constitution,  though  evidently  hardy,  since 
it  endured  a  life  full  of  fatigue  and  suffering,  was  not 
sound.  He  makes  frequent  reference  to  his  bodily 
frailty,  showing  himself  as  a  man  scant  of  breath, 
sickly,  overstrained,  timid,  without  dignity  of  aspect, 
with  nothing  to  strike  the  eye  favourably,  such,  in 
short,  that  it  is  a  merit  not  to  have  stopped  short,  in 

^  Ada  Pauli  et  Theklce,  3,  in  Tischendorf,  Acta  apoat.  apocr.,  p.  41  (an 
old  text  even  if  not  that  mentioned  by  Tertullian) ;  Philopatris  (a.  d.  363), 
12;  Malala,  Chron.,  237;  Nicephorus,  Hist.  Eccl,  ii,  37.  All  these  seem 
to  rely  on  ancient  portraits,  and  to  be  the  more  trustworthy  that  they 
insist,  notwithstanding,  on  Paul's  being  a  handsome  man. 

2  1  Cor.  ii.  1-5 ;  2  Cor.  x.  1,  2,  10 ;  xi.  6. 

8  1  Cor.  u.  3 ;  2  Cor.  i.  8,  9 ;  x.  10;  xi.  30 ;  xii.  5,  9, 10 ;  Gal.  iv.  13, 14. 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  PAITL.  163 

one's  judgment  of  him,  at  this  pitiful  outside.  And 
then,  again,  he  speaks  mysteriously  of  some  secret 
temptation,  of  a  "  thorn  in  the  flesh  "  which  he  likens 
to  "  a  messenger  of  Satan  set  to  buffet  him,"  permitted 
by  God  to  fasten  on  him  lest  he  should  be  too  elate  with 
pride  (2  Cor.  xii.  7-10).  Thrice  he  has  besought  of  the 
Lord  to  be  delivered,  and  thrice  the  Lord  has  answered 
him,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee."  This  seems  to 
have  been  some  bodily  infirmity,^  since  we  cannot  well 
ascribe  it  to  carnal  passion,  which  he  tells  us  (1  Cor.  vii. 
7,  8)  that  he  never  felt.  Paul  never  married.  All  his 
life  shows  a  coldness  of  physical  temperament  corre- 
sponding to  the  matchless  heat  of  his  brain ;  and  he 
speaks  of  it  with  an  openness  which  does  not  wholly 
please  us,  and  might  even  be  charged  with  a  touch  of 
affectation.^ 

Paul  came  to  Jerusalem  when  young  (Acts  xxiii.  3, 
xxvi.  4),  and  is  said  to  have  been  a  pupil  of  Gamaliel, 
though  he  does  not  speak  of  this  where  it  would  have  been 
natural  (Phil.  iii.  5) ;  and  the  maxims  of  Gamaliel  (Acts 
V.  34)  are  wholly  opposed  to  Paul's  conduct  before  his 
conversion.  Gamaliel  was  the  most  enlightened  man 
in  Jerusalem,  which  may  account  for  his  being  men- 
tioned by  the  writer  of  "  Acts  "  (xxii.  3)  as  Paul's  teacher. 
Since  every  Jew  of  mark,  not  of  the  priestly  families, 
was  likely  to  be  called  a  Pharisee,  Gamaliel  was  held  to 
belong  to  that  sect ;  but  he  was  far  from  sharing  its 
narrow  and  intolerant  spirit.     He  was  a  man  of  clear 

1  Possibly,  as  some  have  suggested,  imperfect  sight  or  partial  blindness 
since  the  vision  near  Damascus :  see  John  Brown's  Hotce  SubsecivcB.  —  Ed. 

2  1  Cor.  ix.  5.,  which  is  partly  offset  by  Phil.  iv.  3.  Compare  Clem. 
Alex.,  Strom,  iii.  6  ;  Euseb.  iii.  30.  The  passage  1  Cor.  vii.  7,  8,  has  most 
weight. 


i64  THE  APOSTLES. 

and  open  intelligence,  understanding  the  pagans  and 
acquainted  with  Greek.^  Perhaps  the  broad  views  held 
by  Paul  when  he  had  become  a  Christian  were  a  remi- 
niscence of  his  former  master's  teaching,  though  his 
first  lesson  surely  was  not  to  acquire  his  moderation. 
In  the  heated  atmosphere  of  Jerusalem  he  came  to  be  a 
fanatic  in  high  degree.  He  was  at  the  head  of  the 
party  of  young  Pharisees,  rigourist  and  high-strung,  who 
carried  to  the  last  extreme  their  attachment  to  the 
nation's  past.^  He  had  not  known  Jesus,^  and  was  not 
present  at  the  bloody  scene  of  Calvary.  But  we  have 
seen  him  taking  an  active  part  in  the  killing  of  Stephen, 
and  in  the  foremost  rank  of  persecutors  of  the  Church. 
He  "  breathed  out  threatenings  and  slaughter,"  and 
ranged  throughout  Jerusalem  like  a  very  madman,  car- 
rying a  commission  that  sanctioned  all  his  violences. 
He  went  from  synagogue  to  synagogue,  compelling  the 
timid  to  forswear  the  name  of  Jesus,  and  scourging  or 
imprisoning  the  rest.*  When  the  Church  was  scattered, 
his  rage  extended  to  the  neighbouring  villages  (Acts 
xxvi.  11);  he  was  enraged  at  the  rapid  progress  of  the 
new  faith,  and,  learning  that  a  group  of  disciples  had 
been  formed  at  Damascus,  he  sought  of  the  high-priest 
Theophilus,  son  of  Hanan,^  letters  to  the  synagogue 
there,  which  would  give  him  power  to  arrest  the  mis- 
believers and  bring  them  bound  to  Jerusalem  (Acts  ix. 
1,  2,  14;  xxii.  5;  xxvi.  12). 

1  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  240. 

2  Gal.  i.  13,  14 ;  Acts  xxii.  3,  xxvi.  5. 

8  This  is  not  implied  in  2  Cor.  v.  16.  Even  if  Paul  were  at  Jeru- 
salem at  the  same  time  with  Jesus,  it  does  not  follow  that  they  had  seen 
each  other. 

*  Acts  xxii.  4,  19  ;  xxvi.  10,  11. 

^  High-priest  from  37  to  42  :  Zo^.Ant,  xviii.  5:3;  xix.  6 :  2. 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  165 

These  arbitrary  acts  of  violence  are  explained  by  the 
disturbed  condition  of  the  Roman  power  in  Judasa  since 
the  death  of  Tiberius,  and  the  reign  of  the  madman 
Caligula.  The  administration  was  in  confusion  every- 
where. What  was  lost  to  the  civil  power  was  gained 
to  fanaticism.  After  the  dismissal  of  Pilate  and  the 
concessions  made  by  Vitellius,  the  practice  was  to  leave 
the  country  to  be  governed  under  its  own  laws.  A 
thousand  local  tyrannies  profited  by  the  weakness  of  a 
power  that  had  grown  regardless.  Damascus,  too,  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Nabathaean  king,  Hartat 
or  Hareth,  whose  capital  was  at  Petra.^  This  brave 
and  powerful  prince,  having  beaten  Herod  Antipas,  and 
made  head  against  the  Roman  force  commanded  by 
Vitellius,  the  imperial  legate,  had  been  marvellously 
served  by  fortune.  News  of  the  death  of  Tiberius 
(March  16,  37)  had  brought  a  sudden  check  to  Vitellius.^ 
Hareth  had  seized  Damascus  and  established  there  an 
ethnarch  or  governor.^  The  Jews  made  a  considerable 
population  here  at  this  period,  and  made  many  prose- 
lytes, especially  of  women.*  The  way  to  satisfy  them 
was  to  grant  more  local  privileges,  and  every  such  con- 
cession was  a  license  to  religious  violence.  To  punish 
and  kill  those  who  did  not  believe  with  them  was  their 
notion  of  liberty  and  independence. 

When  Paul  left  Jerusalem,  he  doubtless  followed 
the  usual  road,  crossing   the  Jordan   at  the  "bridge 

1  See  Rev.  numism.  1858,  pp.  296,  362;  Rev.  archeol.  Apr.  1864,  p.  284. 

2  Jos.  War,  ii.  20 :  2. 

3  2  Cor.  xi.  32.  There  is  no  gap  for  the  time  of  Caligula  and  Clau- 
dius in  the  series  of  Roman  coins  of  Damascus.  The  coin  stamped 
*•  Aretas  Philhellene"  seems  to  be  of  this  Hareth  (communicated  by  Air. 
Waddington). 

*  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  5:  1,  3. 


l66  THE  APOSTLES. 

of  the  daughters  of  Jacob."  His  mental  excitement 
was  extreme,  and  at  times  he  seems  to  have  lost  his 
self-control.  Passion  is  not  a  rule  of  faith.  Under 
the  influence  of  passion  a  man  will  veer  from  one 
belief  to  the  opposite,  carrying  into  it  all  the  former 
virulence.  Like  all  strong  souls,  he  was  on  the  verge 
of  loving  the  object  of  his  hate.  Was  he  sure,  indeed, 
that  he  was  not  opposing  the  work  of  God?  The 
calm  and  judicious  views  of  his  teacher  Gamaliel  would 
perhaps  come  back  to  his  thought.  Such  eager  natures 
have  violent  revulsions.  He  felt  the  charm  of  those 
whom  he  tortured.^  The  more  he  knew  of  these  good 
sectaries,  the  more  he  was  attracted  to  them,  and  none 
could  know  them  so  well  as  their  persecutor.  At  times 
he  would  seem  to  see  the  mild  countenance  of  the  Mas- 
ter who  inspired  such  patience  in  his  followers,  gazing 
upon  him  with  an  expression  of  pity  and  tender  re- 
proach. He  would  be  deeply  impressed  by  the  accounts 
of  visions  of  Jesus,  sometimes  visible  in  his  heavenly 
existence ;  for  when  there  is  general  belief  in  the  mar- 
vellous, tales  of  the  marvellous  equally  impress  the 
most  opposite  parties ;  thus  Moslems  feel  dread  of  the 
miracles  of  Elijah,  and,  like  Christians,  supplicate  mira- 
culous cures  of  Saint  George  or  Saint  Anthony.  Paul, 
having  passed  through  Ituraea,  had  come  upon  the  broad 
plain  of  Damascus.  He  was  drawing  near  the  city,  and 
had  probably  reached  the  circuit  of  gardens  surround- 
ing it.  It  was  high  noon.^  He  had  several  compan- 
ions with  him,  and  seems  to  have  been  on  foot.^ 

The  road  from  Jerusalem  to  Damascus  is  very  little 

^  Compare  the  conversion  of  Omar:  Ibn  Ilisham,  Sirat  errasoul,  p.  226. 

2  Acts  ix.  3;  xxii.  6;  xxvi.  13. 

^  Acts.  ix.  4,  8 ;  xxii.  7,  11  ;  xxvi.  14,  16. 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  167 

changed.  Proceeding  from  Damascus  toward  the  south- 
west, it  crosses  the  beautiful  plain  watered  by  the  afflu- 
ents of  the  Abana  and  Pharpar,  on  which,  at  nearly 
equal  distances,  are  now  the  villages  of  Dareya,  Kaukab, 
and  Sasa.  It  would  be  idle  to  seek  the  spot  we  have 
now  in  mind  —  the  scene  of  one  of  the  most  important 
events  in  human  history  —  at  a  greater-  distance  than 
Kaukab,  four  hours'  journey  from  Damascus  (where 
mediaeval  tradition  has  fixed  it) ;  and  it  is  even  likely 
to  have  been  much  nearer  the  city,  perhaps  at  Dareya, 
a  distance  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  or  between  that  and 
the  extremity  of  the  Meidan.^  Paul  was  now  right  in 
front  of  the  city,  some  of  whose  buildings  must  have 
been  in  sight  among  the  trees.  Behind  him  was  the 
majestic  dome  of  Mount  Hermon,  with  its  snowy 
gorges,  which  make  it  look  like  the  whitened  head  of 
an  old  man ;  on  his  right  was  the  Hauran,  two  low 
parallel  ridges  enclosing  the  lower  course  of  the  Phar- 
par {Nakr  el-Aivadj)  and  the  mounds  ( Tiileil)  of  the  lake 
region  ;  and  on  his  left  the  lower  foot-hills  of  the  Anti- 
Lebanon,  swelling  up  toward  Hermon.  The  impression 
of  these  richly  cultivated  plains  and  these  delightful 
orchards,  separated  by  narrow  canals  and  laden  with  the 
fairest  fruits,  is  one  of  calmness  and  enjoyment.  Im- 
agine a  shaded  highway  lying  open  in  a  plain  of  deep 
soil,  constantly  drained  by  irrigating-ditches,  bordered 
by  sloping  banks,  winding  among  olive,  nut,  apricot, 
and  plum  trees  linked  by  climbing  vines,  and  you  will 
have  a  picture  of  the  spot  where  befell  that  singular 
event  which  has  had  such  influence  on  the  faith  of  man- 
kind.    In  these  environs  of  Damascus  (some  5,600  feet 

1  As  would  appear  from  Acts  ix.  3,  8 ;  xxii.  6,  11. 


l68  THE  APOSTLES. 

above  the  sea-level)  you  hardly  believe  that  you  are  in 
the  East.  On  leaving  the  hot  and  arid  regions  of 
Gaulonitis  and  Ituraea,  your  chief  emotion  is  delight 
at  finding  yourself  once  more  among  the  works  of  man 
and  the  benedictions  of  the  sky.  Since  the  remotest 
antiquity,  and  until  now,  the  entire  zone  which  girdles 
Damascus  with  freshness  and  delight  has  had  but  one 
name,  has  inspired  but  one  dream,  that  of  the  "  Para- 
dise of  God." 

If  Paul  found  terrible  visions  in  such  a  region,  it  was 
because  he  already  bore  them  in  his  soul.  Every  step 
he  took  toward  Damascus  wakened  burning  perplexities 
within  him.  The  hateful  task  of  executioner,  which  he 
was  on  his  way  to  discharge,  was  becoming  unendur- 
able. These  houses  just  coming  into  view  are  perhaps 
the  home  of  his  destined  victims!  Such  a  thought 
oppresses  him,  and  blocks  his  path.  He  would  fain 
go  no  farther :  it  is  as  if  he  were  bearing  against  a 
goad  that  pierces  him  (Acts  xxvi.  14).  The  fatigue  of 
the  road  —  a  week's  heavy  travel  —  adds  to  this  dis- 
tress and  breaks  him  down.  His  eyes  appear  to  have 
been  inflamed,^  very  probably  a  symptom  of  ophthalmia, 
due  to  the  long  exposures  of  the  journey,  in  which  the 
last  hours  are  the  most  dangerous.  At  such  a  time  all 
the  enfeebling  effects  of  toiling  in  the  sun  and  dust  are 
at  their  worst,  and  when  the  nerves  are  once  relaxed 
a  violent  reaction  may  set  in.  The  sudden  change, 
again,  from  the  sun-beaten  plain  to  the  cool  shadow  of 
the  gardens,  may  have  caused,  or  at  least  aggravated,  a 
crisis  in  a  system  already  predisposed  to  such  ailment, 
and  now  unnerved  by  the  fatigue  and  excitement  of 

1  Acts  ix.  8,  9,  18;  xxii.  11, 13. 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  169 

this  fanatic's  journey.  Dangerous  attacks  of  fever, 
accompanied  by  rush  of  blood  to  the  head,  are  com- 
mon in  this  region,  with  the  suddenness  of  a  stroke  of 
lightning.  When  the  crisis  is  past,  there  remains  an 
impression  as  of  a  dark  night  shot  through  with  light- 
ning-flashes, and  of  images  relieved  against  a  black  ^ 
background.  In  the  case  of  Paul  what  happened  was, 
that  a  violent  shock  of  some  sort  deprived  him  in  an 
instant  of  all  clear  consciousness  that  yet  remained  in 
him,  and  threw  him  upon  the  earth  senseless. 

Comparing  the  several  accounts  that  have  come  to 
us  of  this  event,  which  won  over  to  Christianity  its 
most  zealous  apostle,^  we  cannot  say  confidently  whether 
or  not  any  outward  incident  brought  it  about.  But,  in 
such  a  case  as  this,  the  outward  incident  counts  for 
little.  The  real  ground  of  Paul's  conversion  was  his 
state  of  mind,  his  remorse  on  coming  close  to  the  city 
where  his  guilt  was  to  be  crowned  by  the  final  act.  We 
know  that  in  kindred  cases  —  as  among  the  Mormons 
or  in  an  American  "  revival "  —  conversion  is  wrought 
during  an  extreme  nervous  tension  giving  rise  to  hallu- 
cinations. For  ray  own  part  I  strongly  incline  to  the 
view  that  the  incident  (whatever  it  may  have  been)  was 
personal  to  Paul  himself,  and  perceived  by  none  of  his 
companions.  That  they  are  said  to  have  seen  and 
heard  what  he  did  may  be  a  legendary  addition,  espe- 
cially as  the  accounts  vary  (see  Acts  ix.  7 ;  xxii.  9 ; 

1  I  myself  had  an  attack  of  this  sort  at  Byblos;  and,  but  for  my 
fixed  opinions  on  this  subject,  should  certainly  have  taken  my  illusions 
for  real  visions. 

2  We  have  three  accounts,  viz.  :  Acts  ix.  1-9;  xxii.  5-11 ;  xxvi.  12-18. 
From  these  it  is  clear  that  Paul  himself  varied  in  his  statements,  while 
that  in  chap.  ix.  is  not  wholly  self- consistent,  as  wiU  appear.  Compare 
Gal.  i.  15-17;  1  Cor.  ix.  1 ;  xv.  8;  Acts  ix.  27. 


176  THE  APOSTLES. 

xxvi.  13).  Most  of  the  accounts  say  nothing  of  a  fall 
from  his  horse.^  There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that,  at  a 
precise  moment,  he  had  a  vision  which  decided  his  con- 
version. It  is  not  unlikely  that  a  thunderstorm  burst 
forth  suddenly  at  this  moment.^  The  flanks  of  Mount 
Hermon  are  the  gathering  place  of  such  storms,  which 
are  of  unparalleled  violence.  The  coolest  heads  cannot 
pass  through  such  sheets  of  flame  without  emotion. 
All  antiquity,  as  we  must  remember,  regarded  such  phe- 
nomena as  special  divine  manifestations.  With  the 
ideas  then  held  as  to  Providence,  nothing  was  fortu- 
itous; every  man  regarded  the  natural  phenomena 
taking  place  about  him  as  having  some  direct  relation 
to  himself.  The  Jews,  in  particular,  always  listened  to 
thunder  as  the  voice  of  God,  and  looked  on  lightning 
as  the  fire  of  God.  Paul  was  at  this  moment  under 
the  most  violent  agitation  of  mind ;  and,  naturally,  he 
would  ascribe  to  the  noise  of  the  storm  what  was  really 
the  voice  of  his  own  heart.  It  is  of  small  account 
whether  a  feverish  delirium  caused  by  a  sunstroke  or 
an  attack  of  ophthalmia,  seized  him  all  at  once ;  or 
whether  a  flash  of  lightning  long  dazzled  and  bewil- 
dered him ;  or  whether  a  thunder-clap  stunned  him, 
causing  a  disturbance  of  the  brain  that  for  a  time  com- 
pletely overwhelmed  him.  His  recollections  as  to  this 
seem  much  confused.  To  him  the  fact  was  supernatu- 
ral, and,  under  such  a  conviction,  outward  circumstances 
could  make  no  clear  impression.  Such  mental  disturb- 
ances sometimes  have  a  retroactive  effect,  and  utterly 

^  It  is  unreasonable  to  reject  the  account  in  Acts  ix.  on  the  ground  of 
the  expression  "  to  reveal  in  me  "  (Gal.  i.  16),  which  is  parallel  to  "  glo- 
rified God  in  me  "  (ver.  24),  and  means  simply,  "  in  respect  of  me. 

a  Acts  ix.  3,  7 ;  xxii.  6,  9,  11 ;  xxvi.  13. 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  171 

blur  out  one's  memory  of  what  has  happened  for  some 
moments  previously.-^  Paul,  too,  himself  tells  us  (2  Cor. 
xii.  1-9)  that  he  was  subject  to  visions.  A  circum- 
stance quite  unimportant  in  another's  eyes  might  be 
sufficient  to  put  him  wholly  beside  himself. 

Amid  these  illusions,  to  which  his  senses  were  en- 
thralled, what  did  he  really  see  and  hear  ?  He  saw  the 
Form  that  during  these  last  many  days  had  followed 
him,  of  which  so  many  tales  were  already  current,  — 
Jesus  himself,^  who  spoke  to  him  in  Hebrew :  "  Saul, 
Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me  ? "  Impetuous  natures 
pass  by  a  single  step  from  one  extreme  to  the  other.® 
For  them  there  are  what  colder  natures  cannot  know, 
critical  moments  which  fix  the  destiny  of  a  lifetime. 
Men  of  reflection  do  not  change  thus,  but  undergo  a 
gradual  transformation.  A  fiery  nature,  on  the  other 
hand,  may  change,  but  does  not  pass  through  those 
steps.  Dogmatism  is  like  a  Nessus'  shirt,  which  it 
cannot  tear  away.  They  need  a  pretext  whether  for 
love  or  hate.  Only  in  our  Western  races  are  found 
those  broadly  balanced  minds,  delicate,  strong,  and  pli- 
ant, misled  by  no  sudden  illusion,  deceived  by  no  shallow 
assertion.  Such  minds  have  never  existed  in  the  East. 
Within  a  few  seconds  all  his  deepest  thoughts  flashed 
through  the  soul  of  Paul.  He  saw  vividly  the  horror 
of  his  conduct ;  he  saw  himself  stained  with  the  martyr 
blood  of  Stephen,  who  was  now  to  him  as  a  father  and 
an  instructor.     He  was  keenly  stricken,  utterly  over- 

1  It  was  so  with  me  at  Byblos,  so  that  I  absolutely  lost  all  memory  of 
the  day  before  that  of  the  attack. 

2  Acts  ix.  27 ;  Gal.  i.  16 ;  1  Cor.  ix.  1 ;  xv.  8 ;  Clementine  Homilies, 
xvii.  13-19. 

'  Thus  of  Omar,  in  Sirat  errasoul,  226  et  seq. 


173  THE  APOSTLES. 

whelmed.  But,  really,  only  the  form  of  his  fanaticism 
was  changed.  His  very  sincerity,  his  need  of  absolute 
faith,  forbade  him  any  middle  ground.  One  thing  was 
plain,  he  would  hereafter  display  the  same  fiery  zeal  for 
Jesus  that  he  had  hitherto  put  forth  against  him. 

He  entered  Damascus,  by  help  of  his  companions, 
who  led  him  by  the  hand  (Acts  ix.  8;  xxii.  11).  They 
left  him  with  a  certain  Judas,  living  in  the  street  called 
"  Straight."  This  is  a  great  avenue,  with  colonnades, 
more  than  a  mile  long,  more  than  a  hundred  feet 
broad,  which  traverses  the  city  from  east  to  west,  its 
course  still  forming,  with  some  slight  deviations,  the 
chief  thoroughfare  of  Damascus.^  The  dazed  condition 
and  agitation  of  his  mind  was  still  intense  as  before. 
For  three  days  of  high  fever  Paul  neither  ate  nor 
drank.  What  passed  meanwhile  in  his  heated  brain, 
disturbed  by  the  violent  shock,  we  may  only  conjecture. 
Some  of  the  Christians  in  Damascus  were  spoken  of  in 
his  presence,  among  them  a  certain  Ananias  (Hananiah), 
who  seems  to  have  been  their  leader.^  Paul  had  often 
before  heard  of  the  miraculous  healing  powers  of  the 
Christians,  and  was  possessed  by  the  thought  that  the 
laying-on  of  hands  would  work  his  cure.  His  eyes 
were  still  highly  inflamed.  Among  the  forms  that 
flitted  through  his  brain  he    seemed   to    see  Ananias 


1  The  old  Arabic  name  was  Tank  el-Adhwa^  but  it  is  now  called 
Tarik  el-Mustekim,  equivalent  to  pu/x»7  dpfla.  The  eastern  gate  (Bab 
Sharki)  and  a  few  traces  of  the  colonnades  still  exist.  See  Arabic  texts 
in  Wustenfeld  {Zeitschr.  fur  vergleichende  Erdkunde,  1842,  p.  168) ;  Porter 
{Syria  and  Palestine),  477;  Wilson  (Lands  of  the  Bible),  ii.  345,  351,  352. 

^  The  account  in  Acts  ix.  seems  to  consist  of  an  earlier  narrative, 
including  ver.  9,  11,  18,  enlarged  by  a  later  legendary  one,  including  more 
both  of  narrative  and  dialogue,  with  ver.  9,  10,  11,  13-18;  ver.  12  seems 
to  stand  alone.     That  in  xxii.  12-16  contains  more  of  the  latter. 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  173 

(Acts  ix.  12),  who  entered  and  touched  him  with  the 
gesture  customary  among  Christians.  Hence  a  fixed 
persuasion  that  Ananias  would  be  the  agent  of  his  cure. 
Ananias  was  sent  for,  came,  spoke  gently  to  the  suf- 
ferer, called  him  "  brother,"  and  laid  hands  upon  his 
head.  From  this  moment  calmness  returned  to  the 
mind  of  Paul.  He  believed  himself  to  be  already 
healed ;  and,  since  the  malady  was  chiefly  nervous,  he 
was  so.  Little  incrustations  ("  scales  ")  fell,  it  is  said, 
from  his  eyelids ;  ^  he  ate,  and  recovered  his  strength. 

He  was  baptised  without  delay.  The  doctrine  he 
was  required  to  profess  was  so  simple  that  he  had 
nothing  new  to  learn.  He  was  a  Christian  on  the  spot, 
and  a  Christian  completely  furnished.  Besides,  from 
whom  should  he  receive  further  instruction?  Jesus 
himself  had  appeared  to  him,  —  the  risen  Jesus,  just  as 
to  James  and  Peter.  All  his  doctrine  he  had  received 
by  direct  revelation.  Here,  again,  we  see  the  haughty 
and  indomitable  nature  of  Paul.  When  cast  down 
upon  the  highway,  he  was  ready  at  once  to  submit 
himself,  but  to  Jesus  alone,  who  had  come  down  from 
the  right  hand  of  the  Father  to  convert  and  instruct 
him.  This  makes  the  basis  of  his  faith  ;  this  will  here- 
after be  the  point  of  departure  for  his  claims.  He  will 
maintain  that,  of  his  own  mind,  he  avoided  returning  to 
Jerusalem  directly  after  his  conversion,  that  so  he  might 
be  in  direct  relations  with  those  who  were  apostles  be- 
fore him ;  for  he  has  received  his  own  special  revela- 
tion, and  owes  nothing  to  any  man ;  he  too,  like  the 
Twelve,  is  an  apostle  by  divine  appointment  and  by  a 
commission  direct  from  Jesus ;  his  doctrine  is  sound, 

*  Acts  ix.  18;  comp.  Tobit,  ii.  9;  vi.  10;  xi.  13. 


174  THE  APOSTLES. 

even  though  an  angel  should  say  the  contrary.*  With 
this  haughty  convert  there  came  a  great  peril  into  the 
bosom  of  that  little  community  of  the  "  poor  in  spirit," 
which  hitherto  has  made  up  the  Christian  body.  It 
will  be  a  real  miracle  if  his  high  temper  and  unbending 
personality  do  not  shatter  it  in  pieces.  But  then,  what 
an  element  of  unspeakable  value  will  be  his  hardihood, 
his  independent  vigour,  his  positive  decision,  beside  that 
narrow,  timid,  irresolute  temper  of  the  saints  at  Jeru- 
salem !  If  Christianity  had  continued  in  the  hands  of 
those  excellent  people,  shut  up  in  a  conventicle  of  "  new 
lights  "  living  a  life  in  common,  it  would  almost  cer- 
tainly, like  Essenism,  have  died  and  left  no  sign.  This 
unteachable  Paul  will  prove  the  creator  of  its  destinies ; 
it  is  he  who,  at  the  risk  of  whatever  peril,  will  bravely 
launch  the  ship  into  the  deep  sea.  Side  by  side  with 
the  obedient  disciple,  who  without  a  word  accepts  his 
faith  from  his  superior,  we  shall  find  one  who  is  free  of 
all  authority,  who  believes  only  from  personal  convic- 
tion. Already,  but  five  years  after  the  death  of  Jesus, 
Protestantism  is  born :  its  glorious  founder  is  Saint 
Paul.  We  may  suppose  that  Jesus  never  looked  for- 
ward to  disciples  such  as  he ;  but  it  is  they,  perhaps, 
who  have  done  the  most  to  keep  his  work  alive,  and  to 
render  it  immortal. 

A  violent  and  headlong  nature,  forced  to  change  its 
faith,  will  find  only  a  new  object  of  its  passion.  As 
ardent  for  the  new  as  he  had  been  for  the  old,  Paul, 
like  Omar,  passed  in  one  day  from  the  part  of  perse- 
cutor to  that  of  apostle.     He  did  not  return  to  Jeru- 

^  Gal.  i.  1,  8,  9,  11-14;  1  Cor.  ix.  1;  xi.  23;  xv.  8,  9;  Col.  i.  25; 
Eph.  i.  19;  iii.  3,  7,  8;  Acts  xx.  24;  xxii.  14,  15,  21;  xxvi.  16;  Clem. 
Horn.  xvii.  13-19. 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  175 

salem  (Gal.  i.  17),  where  there  would  have  been 
something  embarrassing  in  his  position  toward  the 
Twelve.  He  remained  at  Damascus  and  in  the  Hau- 
ran,  —  "  in  Arabia,"  of  which  province  the  Hauran  is 
the  chief  district,  —  and  here  for  three  years  (38-41) 
continued  to  preach  that  Jesus  was  the  Son  of  God.^ 
Herod  Agrippa  now  held  sovereignty  in  the  Hauran 
and  neighbouring  districts ;  but  his  power  was  held  in 
check  at  sundry  points  by  Hareth  (Aretas)  the  Na- 
bathcean  king.  The  weakening  of  Roman  power  in 
Syria  had  given  over  to  the  ambitious  Arab  the  great 
and  rich  city  of  Damascus,  as  well  as  a  part  of  the 
region  eastward  of  Hermon  and  the  Jordan,  which 
were  then  just  in  the  springtime  of  a  new  civilisation.^ 
Another  Emir,  Soheym,^  —  perhaps  a  lieutenant  or  rela- 
tion of  Hareth,  —  was  claiming  from  Caligula  the  prin- 
cipality of  Ituraea.  Amid  this  great  awakening  of  the 
Arab  race,^  —  on  that  strange  soil,  where  an  impulsive 
breed  of  men  were  making  a  brilliant  display  of  heated 
activity,  —  Paul  shed  the  first  flame  of  his  apostolic 
spirit  (Gal.  i.  16).  It  may  be  that  the  brilliant  secular 
energy  that  was  making  this  a  new  country  hurt  the 
effect  of  a  manifesto  wholly  idealistic  and  resting  on 
belief  in  the  approaching  end  of  the  world.  At  all 
events,  we  find  no  trace  of  a  church  in  Arabia  founded 
by  Saint  Paul.     If  the  region  of  the  Hauran  became 

1  Gal.  i.  17-20;  Acts  ix.  19-22;  xxvi.  20.  The  writer  of  Acts 
(xxii.  17)  thinks  that  the  stay  at  Damascus  was  very  brief,  and  that, 
after  his  conversion,  Paul  went  to  Jerusalem  and  preached  there.  But 
Galatians  is  decisive. 

2  See  inscriptions  found  by  Waddington  and  Vogiie  {Rev.  archeol.,  Apr. 
1864) ;  Comptes  rendus  de  VAcad.  des  inscr.  1865,  106-108. 

•  Dion  Cass.  lix.  12. 

*  See  Bulletin  archeol.  (Longp^rier,  &c.),  Sept.  1856. 


176  THE  APOSTLES, 

about  A.  D.  70  one  of  the  important  centres  of  Chris- 
tianity, this  was  due  to  the  flight  of  Christians  from 
Palestine,  and  the  chief  share  in  it  belongs  to  the  Ebi- 
onites,  the  special  enemies  of  Paul. 

Paul  had  a  larger  hearing  at  Damascus,  where  there 
were  many  Jews.^  He  went  into  their  synagogues, 
where  he  argued  warmly  to  prove  that  Jesus  was  the 
true  Messiah.  There  was  great  astonishment  among 
the  disciples,  that  one  who  had  persecuted  their  brothers 
in  Jerusalem,  and  had  come  hither  to  throw  them  into 
chains,  had  become  their  chief  advocate  (Acts  ix.  20- 
22).  His  boldness  and  independence  alarmed  them ; 
he  was  alone,  and  took  counsel  with  no  man  (Gal.  i.  16) ; 
he  gathered  no  school ;  he  was  regarded  with  more 
curiosity  than  sympathy.  They  felt  that  he  was  a 
brother,  but  one  who  filled  a  place  of  his  own.  He 
was  believed  to  be  incapable  of  treachery ;  but  these 
kind-hearted  and  commonplace  natures  always  feel  a 
certain  distrust  and  alarm  when  brought  in  touch  with 
those  which  are  potent  and  original,  which,  as  they  feel, 
must  one  day  be  beyond  their  control. 

1  Jos.  TFar,  i.  2:25;  ii.  20:2. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   CHURCH   IN  JUD^A.  —  A.  D.  38-41. 

During  the  three  years  following  Paul's  conversion  (38- 
41)  the  Church  seems  to  have  incurred  no  persecution 
(Acts  ix.  31).  The  disciples  no  doubt  took  precautions 
which  they  had  neglected  before  the  death  of  Stephen, 
and  spoke  no  more  so  openly  in  public.  It  may  be,  too, 
that  the  new  sect  was  favoured  by  the  disasters  that  be- 
fell the  Jews  in  the  later  years  of  Caligula,  with  whom 
they  were  in  constant  struggle.  The  better  terms  they 
were  on  with  the  Romans,  in  fact,  so  much  the  worse 
was  their  persecuting  temper.  To  purchase  or  reward 
their  good  behaviour,  the  Roman  officials  were  induced 
to  enlarge  their  privileges,  —  in  particular  what  they 
valued  most,  the  right  of  putting  to  death  those  whom 
they  judged  guilty  before  their  Law.^  The  period  of 
time  that  now  occupies  us,  it  may  be  remarked,  was 
among  the  stormiest  to  be  found  in  the  stormy  annals 
of  this  strange  people. 

Never  was  there  a  time  when  the  hatred  felt  by  their 
neighbours  against  the  Jews  by  reason  of  their  aggres- 
sive morality,  their  queer  customs,  and  the  obstinacy  of 
their  temper,  raged  more  bitterly  than  now,  especially 
in  Alexandria.^   To  meet  these  arrears  of  hate,  the  trans- 

1  See  the  shockingly  candid  story  in  3  Mace.  vii.  12,  13. 

2  As  we  see  by  comparing  "  Esther  "  with  the  third  (apocryphal)  book 
of  Maccabees. 

12 


178  THE  APOSTLES. 

fer  of  the  Empire  from  one  of  the  most  dangerous  of 
maniacs  that  ever  reigned  offered  a  favourable  chance. 
Caligula,  ever  since  the  malady  that  completed  the  ruin 
of  his  sanity  (in  October,  37),  had  shown  the  fearful 
spectacle  of  a  madman  ruling  the  world  with  the  most 
enormous  powers  ever  grasped  in  the  hand  of  man. 
Such  horrors  were  made  possible,  and  were  made 
remediless,  by  the  disastrous  law  of  succession  among 
the  Caesars.  This  horror  lasted  for  three  years  and 
three  months.  The  historian  blushes  to  tell  in  sober 
narrative  what  must  follow.  Before  entering  upon  the 
lewd  and  bloody  story,  he  must  say,  with  Suetonius, 
"  What  follows  is  to  be  told  as  of  a  prodigy  in  nature  " 
{Reliqua  ut  de  monstro  narrmida  sunt). 

The  most  harmless  folly  of  this  madman  was  his  care 
for  his  own  divinity.^  In  this  he  displayed  a  certain 
bitter  irony,  a  mixture  of  the  grave  and  comic  (for 
this  monster  lacked  not  wit),  and  a  deep  contempt  of 
the  human  race.  Enemies  of  the  Jews  saw  what  gain 
they  might  make  of  this  insanity.  So  abased  was  the 
religious  condition  of  the  time  that  there  rose  not  one 
protest  against  the  Caesar's  sacrilege  ;  every  local  creed 
made  haste  to  decree  to  him  the  titles  and  honours  it 
paid  exclusively  to  its  own  divinity.  It  is  the  everlast- 
ing glory  of  the  Jews  that  amid  all  this  base  idolatry 
they  raised  the  outcry  of  the  outraged  conscience.  They 
alone  affirmed  that  theirs  was  the  absolute  religion,  and 
refused  to  bend  before  the  tyrant's  hateful  caprice.  This 
was  to  them  the  beginning  of  entanglements  without 
end.  If  in  one  city  there  was  one  man  who  had  a  quar- 
rel with  the  synagogue,  whether  out  of  spite  or  mere 

^  Suet.  Caius,  22,  52;  Dion  Cass.  lix.  26-28;  Philo,  Leg.  ad  Caium, 
25;  Jos.  Ant.  xyiii.  8 ;  xix.  1:1,2;   War,  ii.  10. 


THE   CHURCH  IN  JUD^A.  179 

trickery,  that  was  enough  to  bring  about  frightful 
consequences.  One  day  it  might  be  that  an  altar  to 
Caligula  was  found  on  the  spot  where  it  could  least 
be  tolerated  by  the  Jews;^  another  day  a  mob  of  street- 
Arabs  would  be  hooting  "  Shame ! "  because  the  Jews 
alone  refused  to  erect  the  emperor's  statue  in  their 
house  of  prayer.  Then  there  would  be  a  rush  upon  the 
synagogues  and  shrines,  where  the  bust  of  Caligula 
would  be  set  up,^  and  the  unhappy  wretches  were  put  to 
the  alternative  of  renouncing  their  religion  or  incurring 
the  guilt  of  treason.  And  so  the  most  dreadful  annoy- 
ances would  follow. 

Such  jests  had  been  practised  more  than  once,  when 
the  emperor  was  inspired  with  a  thought  yet  more 
devilish  :  it  was  to  set  up  a  colossal  golden  statue  of 
himself  in  the  most  holy  place  of  the  Temple  at  Jeru- 
salem, and  to  dedicate  the  Temple  itself  to  his  own 
divinity.^  This  odious  scheme  had  nearly  hastened  by 
thirty  years  the  great  revolt  and  the  ruin  of  the  Jewish 
nation.  This  catastrophe  was  averted  by  the  modera- 
tion of  the  imperial  legate,  Publius  Petronius,  and  the 
interposition  of  Herod  Agrippa,  a  favourite  of  Caligula. 
But  the  Jews  lived  everywhere  in  terror  until  the  world 
was  delivered  by  Chereea's  sword  from  the  most  ex- 
ecrable tyrant  it  had  as  yet  endured.  Philo  {Leg.  27, 
30,  44)  has  preserved  to  us  the  details  of  that  unex- 
ampled scene  when  his  legation  was  admitted  to  an 
interview  with  the  emperor.  It  was  during  his  visit 
to  the  villas  of  Maecenas  and -Lamia,  near  the  sea,  not 

^  Philo,  Leg.  ad  Caium,  30. 
2  Ibid.  18,  20,  26,  43 ;  In  Flaccum,  7. 

'  Philo,  Leg.  39;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  8;  War,  ii.  10;  Tac.  Ann.  xii.  54, 
with  Hist.  V.  9. 


i8o  THE  APOSTLES. 

far  from  Puteoli,  while  he  was  in  a  vein  of  gaiety,  and 
his  chief  jester  Helicon  had  just  been  repeating  to  him 
all  manner  of  buffooneries  about  the  Jews.  **  Ah,  it  is 
you,  then,"  said  he  with  a  bitter  laugh,  showing  his 
teeth  ;  "  you  who  alone  will  not  confess  me  a  god,  and 
choose  rather  to  worship  one  whom  you  cannot  even 
call  by  name  !  "  AVith  these  words  there  went  a  fright- 
ful blasphemy.  The  Jews  trembled;  their  opponents 
from  Alexandria  claimed  the  first  word :  "  Your  Maj- 
esty," said  they,  "  would  detest  these  men  and  all  their 
nation  even  more,  if  you  knew  the  hate  they  have  for 
you.  They  are  the  only  ones  who  did  not  sacrifice  for 
your  health  when  every  other  nation  did  it."  At  these 
words  the  Jews  cried  out  that  this  was  a  calumny,  that 
they  had  three  times  offered  sacrifice,  the  most  solemn 
which  their  rite  allowed,  for  the  emperor's  prosperity. 
"  Be  it  so,"  replied  Caligula,  with  a  very  droll  gravity, 
"  that  you  have  sacrificed,  it  is  well ;  but  you  did  not 
sacrifice  to  me,  and  what  gain  have  I  of  it  ?  "  There- 
upon he  turned  his  back  on  them  and  began  to  run 
through  the  apartments,  up  and  down  stairs  without 
stopping,  while  he  gave  orders  for  repairs.  The  un- 
happy deputies  —  among  them  Philo,  a  man  advanced 
in  years,^  perhaps  the  most  venerated  man  of  his  time, 
since  Jesus  was  no  more  —  followed  him  up  and  down, 
out  of  breath,  trembling,  exposed  to  the  jeers  of  the  by- 
standers. Turning  about  of  a  sudden,  "  By  the  way," 
cried  Caligula,  "  why  is  it  that  you  don't  eat  pork  ?  " 
His  flatterers  burst  out  a-laughing ;  while  some  officers, 
in  a  severe  tone,  warned  them  that  their  immoderate 
mirth  was  an  offence  to  the  imperial  majesty.     The 

1  "  Of  eighty  years,"  says  the  text,  but  more  commonly  thought  to  be 
about  sixty.  —  Ed. 


THE   CHURCH  IN  JUDjEA.  l8l 

Jews  stammered,  and  one  of  them  said,  rather  awk- 
wardly, "But  there  are  some  people  who  don't  eat 
lamb."  "  As  to  those  people,"  said  the  emperor,  "  they 
are  quite  right;  that  is  a  tasteless  kind  of  meat!" 
He  then  affected  to  interest  himself  in  their  business ; 
but  hardly  was  the  speech  begun  when  he  left  them 
again,  to  give  orders  for  the  decoration  of  a  hall  which 
he  wished  to  ornament  with  a  sparkling  stone.  Coming 
back  with  an  air  of  moderation,  he  asked  the  envoys  if 
they  had  anything  more  to  say ;  and,  as  they  were  re- 
suming the  interrupted  speech,  he  turned  his  back  on 
them  again,  and  went  to  inspect  another  hall,  which  he 
was  having  adorned  with  pictures.  This  tiger's-sport, 
playing  with  his  victims,  lasted  for  hours.  The  Jews 
were  waiting  for  the  death-stroke,  but  at  the  last 
moment  the  tiger-claws  drew  back.  "  Come ! "  said 
Caligula,  resuming  his  walk,  "  I  swear  these  people  are 
not  so  guilty  as  they  are  to  be  pitied  for  not  believing 
in  my  divinity."  So  mockingly  might  the  gravest  ques- 
tions be  treated  under  this  horrible  rule,  created  by  the 
baseness  of  mankind,  cherished  by  a  soldiery  and  a 
populace  equally  vile,  sustained  by  the  cowardice  of 
almost  all! 

So  strained  a  situation,  as  we  easily  see,  took  from 
the  Jews  under  Marullus  much  of  the  boldness  which 
made  them  so  proud  and  fierce  in  the  presence  of 
Pilate.  The  Christians  were  now  almost  sundered 
from  the  Temple,  and  must  have  been  far  less  terri- 
fied than  the  Jews  at  the  impious  designs  of  Caligula. 
They  were,  besides,  too  few  to  be  well  known  or  much 
heeded  at  Rome.  The  tempest  of  Caligula's  day,  like 
that  which  ended  in  the  capture  of  Jerusalem  under 
Titus,  passed  over  their  heads,  and  was  even  in  many 


i82  THE  APOSTLES. 

ways  serviceable  to  them.  "Whatever  weakened  Jewish 
independeDce  was  a  help  to  them,  since  it  was  so  much 
abated  from  the  power  of  a  suspicious  orthodoxy,  which 
followed  up  its  claims  with  severe  penalties. 

This  period  of  repose  was  fruitful  of  inward  growth. 
The  Church,  still  in  its  springtide,  was  becoming  divided 
into  three  provinces,  Judaea,  Samaria,  and  Galilee  (Acts 
ix.  31),  Damascus  being  doubtless  an  appendage  to  the 
last.  Jerusalem  still  held  its  unquestioned  primacy. 
The  Church  here,  which  had  dispersed  after  the  death 
of  Stephen,  quickly  rallied.  The  apostles  had  never 
left  the  city,  while  "  the  Lord's  brethren  "  still  resided 
there,  invested  with  high  authority  (Gal.  i.  18,  19  j  ii.  9). 
This  new  church  at  Jerusalem  seems  not  to  have  been 
organised  so  strictly  as  the  earlier ;  community  of  goods 
was  no  -longer  found  in  it.  There  was,  at  most,  a  gen- 
erous chest  for  the  poor,  which  was  to  receive  the  gifts 
ever  flowing  in  from  the  local  churches  to  the  mother- 
church,  the  fountain  and  the  permanent  well-spring  of 
their  faith  (Acts  xi.  29,  30). 

Peter  continued  to  make  frequent  apostolic  visits  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Jerusalem  (Acts  ix.  32),  still  re- 
taining high  repute  as  a  wonder-worker.  At  Lydda 
(now  Ludd),  in  particular,  he  is  said  (Acts  ix.  32-35)  to 
liave  healed  a  paralytic  named  ^neas,  which  marvel- 
lous cure  led  to  many  conversions  in  the  plain  of  Sharon 
(ix.  32-35).  From  Lydda  he  proceeded  to  Joppa  (Jaffa), 
which  seems  to  have  been  a  centre  for  the  new  faith, 
which  found  its  most  favourable  opportunity  in  towns 
of  workingmen,  sailors,  and  the  poorer  classes,  where 
Jewish  orthodoxy  held   no   control.^     Peter   remained 

1  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10:6. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  fUDJEA.  183 

long  at  Joppa,  living  with  a  tanner  named  Simon,  near 
the  sea.^  Working  in  leather  was  esteemed  an  occu- 
pation almost  "unclean,"  so  that  one  should  have  little 
to  do  with  those  who  dealt  in  it,  tanners  or  curriers, 
who  were  thus  compelled  to  live  in  quarters  apart.^ 
Peter,  by  this  choice  of  residence,  showed  his  indiffer- 
ence to  Jewish  prejudice,  and  added  his  share  in  the 
ennobling  of  the  humbler  forms  of  industry,  which  is 
largely  the  work  of  the  Christian  spirit. 

The  organising  of  works  of  charity,  meanwhile,  went 
on  actively.  In  the  church  at  Joppa  was  an  admirable 
woman,  in  Aramaic  called  Tabitha  [gazelle),  and  in 
Greek  Dorcas,^  who  devoted  all  her  labours  to  the  poor 
(Acts  ix.  36-43).  She  appears  to  have  been  rich,  and 
to  have  bestowed  her  wealth  in  charity.  This  honour- 
able lady  had  formed  a  circle  of  pious  widows,  who 
passed  their  days  with  her  in  weaving  garments  for  the 
needy.  As  the  break  between  Christianity  and  Juda- 
ism was  not  yet  complete,  Jews  are  likely  to  have 
shared  in  these  charitable  gifts.  The  phrase  "  saints 
and  widows  "  (ix.  41)  thus  probably  denotes  a  class  of 
pious  persons,  like  those  of  modern  religious  houses, 
whose  task  it  is  to  do  good  to  all,  suspected  only  by 
the  rigourists  of  a  pedantic  orthodoxy,  "minor  brethren'* 
beloved  of  the  people,  devout,  charitable,  pitiful. 

The  germ  of  these  associations  of  women,  which 
make  one  of  the  glories  of  Christianity,  thus  existed 
in  the  first  churches  of  Judaea.     At  Jaffa  began  the 

1  Acts  ix.  43;  x.  6,  17,  32. 

2  Mishna,  Ketuboth,  vii.  10. 

8  Gruter,  891,  4;  Reinesius,  Inscr.  xiv.  61;  Mommsen,  Inscr.  regni 
Neap.  622,  2034,  3092,4985;  Pape,  Worterh.  der  griecTi.  Eigennamen;  Jos. 
War,  iv.  3 :  6. 


1 84  THE  APOSTLES. 

succession  of  those  women,  clad  in  veils  and  linen 
garments,  who  were  to  continue  through  centuries  the 
sacred  tradition  of  their  charities,  Tabitha  was  the 
mother  of  a  household  which  will  have  no  end  so  long 
as  there  are  miseries  to  relieve,  or  kindly  feminine  sym- 
pathies to  satisfy.  The  later  account  adds  that  Peter 
raised  her  from  the  dead.  Death,  alas !  senseless  and 
repulsive  as  in  such  a  case  it  always  is,  is  also  pitiless. 
When  the  loveliest  spirit  is  breathed  away,  the  sentence 
is  without  recall ;  the  noblest  of  women,  no  less  than 
the  most  frivolous  and  vulgar,  is  deaf  to  the  appeal  of 
the  dear  voices  that  would  call  her  back.  But  the  spirit 
is  not  subject  to  material  conditions.  Virtue  and  lov- 
ing-kindness escape  the  grasp  of  death.  Needless  that 
Tabitha  should  be  revived !  A  few  days  more  to  pass 
in  this  vale  of  tears,  —  were  it  well  for  that  to  call  her 
away  from  her  blest  and  unchanging  eternity  ?  Let  her 
rest  in  peace  !  the  day  of  the  just  will  come. 

In  these  towns  of  mixed  population,  the  question  of 
the  admission  of  pagans  to  baptism  was  very  urgent. 
Peter's  mind  was  greatly  occupied  with  it.  One  day, 
while  praying  on  the  tanner's  housetop,  in  view  of  the 
sea  that  was  soon  to  bear  the  new  faith  throughout  the 
Empire,  he  fell  into  a  trance,  or  prophetic  ecstasy. 
While  still  between  sleep  and  waking,  he  felt  a  sensa- 
tion of  hunger,  and  asked  for  food.  While  this  was 
getting  ready,  he  saw  in  vision  the  sky  opened  and  a 
sheet  let  down,  knotted  at  the  four  corners.  Looking 
within  the  sheet,  he  saw  living  creatures  of  various 
sorts,  and  seemed  to  hear  a  voice,  saying  to  him,  *'  Rise, 
Peter,  kill  and  eat."  Objecting  to  this  that  many  of 
the  creatures  were  unclean,  and  thus  forbidden  as  food, 
he  heard  the  further  words,  "  What  God  hath  purified 


THE  CHURCH  IN  JUD^A.  185 

call  not  thou  unclean."  The  act,  it  appears,  was  three 
times  repeated.  Peter  was  convinced  that  these  creat- 
ures represented  symbolically  the  mass  of  gentiles 
[gathered  within  the  four  corners  of  the  earth],  and 
that  God  himself  had  made  them  fit  for  the  holy  com- 
panionship of  the  kingdom  of  God/ 

An  occasion  was  soon  found  to  put  these  principles  to 
practice.  From  Joppa  Peter  went  on  to  Csesarea,  and 
here  he  met  a  centurion  named  Cornelius  (Acts  x.  1-xi. 
18).  The  garrison  at  CaBsarea  was  partly  made  up 
from  one  of  the  volunteer  Italian  cohorts  [ItaliccB),  of 
which  there  appear  to  have  been  at  least  thirty-two ;  ^ 
and  its  commander  was  Cornelius,  who  is  thus  shown 
to  have  been  an  Italian  and  a  Roman  citizen.  He  was 
a  man  of  upright  character,  who  had  long  felt  himself 
drawn  toward  the  monotheistic  faith  of  the  Jews.  He 
prayed,  gave  alms,  and  in  general  practised  those  pre- 
cepts of  natural  religion  assumed  in  Judaism ;  but  he 
was  not  circumcised  or  even  in  any  sense  a  proselyte, 
but  a  pious  pagan,  an  Israelite  at  heart,  and  nothing 
more  —  like  the  good  centurion  in  Luke  (vii.  2-10).^ 
His  whole  household  and  a  few  soldiers  of  his  com- 
pany are  said  to  have  been  inclined  to  the  same  course 
(Acts  X.  2,  7).  Cornelius  sought  admission  into  the 
new  church.  Peter,  whose  disposition  was  frank  and 
friendly,  acceded  to  the  request,  and  the  centurion  was 
baptised.*     It  is  possible  that  Peter  did  not  at  first  see 

1  Acts  X.  9-16  ;  xi.  5-10. 

2  Orelli  &  Henzen,  Inscr.  lat.  90,  512,  6756.  The  full  name  of  that  at 
Caesarea  may  have  been  cohors  prima  Augusta  Italica  civium  Romanorum 
(Acts  xxvii.  1 ;  Henzen,  6709). 

8  The  example  of  IzaUis  (Jos.  Ant.  xx.  2 :  5)  proves  that  such  eases  did 
exist.     Comp.  Jos.  War,  ii.  28:2;  Orelli,  2523. 

*  This  seems,  it  is  true,  to  contradict  Gal.  ii.  7-9 ;  but  Peter  was  always 
very  inconsistent  about  the  admission  of  Gentiles. 


i86  THE  APOSTLES. 

any  difficulty  in  this ;  but  when  he  went  back  to  Jeru- 
salem he  met  sharp  remonstrances.  He  had  openly 
violated  the  Law;  he  had  entered  in  among  the  un- 
circumcised  and  eaten  with  them.  It  was,  in  fact,  a 
fundamental  question.  This  case  would  decide  whether 
the  Law  were  abolished ;  whether  it  might  be  violated 
in  the  case  of  proselytes;  whether  Gentiles  could  be 
received  openly  into  the  Church.  To  defend  himself, 
Peter  told  of  his  vision  at  Joppa ;  and  afterwards  the 
case  of  the  centurion  served  as  an  argument  in  the 
great  controversy  of  baptising  the  uncircumcised.  To 
strengthen  his  position,  it  was  held  that  every  step  in 
the  affair  had  been  directed  by  a  command  from  heaven. 
After  long  prayers,  it  was  related,  Cornelius  had  seen 
an  angel,  who  commanded  him  to  go  to  search  for  Peter 
at  Joppa ;  that  Peter's  symbolic  vision  took  place  at  the 
very  moment  when  the  messengers  of  Cornelius  were 
just  arrived;  and  further,  that  God  himself  had  spe- 
cially sanctioned  all  that  had  been  done,  for,  after  the 
Holy  Spirit  had  in  baptism  descended  upon  Cornelius 
and  his  household,  they  had  spoken  with  tongues,  and 
had  joined  in  the  singing  of  psalms  in  the  same  way 
with  the  other  disciples.  Could  baptism,  indeed,  be 
denied  to  those  who  had  received  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 

The  church  at  Jerusalem  was  still  made  up  exclu- 
sively of  Jews  and  proselytes.  To  them  it  seemed  very 
strange  that  the  Spirit  should  be  shed  upon  the  uncir- 
cumcised before  their  baptism.  From  this  time  forth, 
we  may  assume,  there  was  a  party  among  them  opposed 
on  principle  to  the  admission  of  gentiles,  and  to  some 
Peter's  explanations  were  not  admissible.  In  Acts  (xi. 
18)  their  acceptance  appears  to  have  been  unanimous ; 
but,  within  a  few  years,  we  shall  find  the  question  re- 


THE  CHURCH  IN  JUDjEA.  187 

vived  with  much  more  asperity  (xv.  1-5).  The  case  of 
the  good  centurion,  like  that  of  the  Ethiopian  eunuch, 
was  probably  allowed  to  pass,  as  an  exceptional  case, 
justified  by  a  special  revelation;  but  the  matter  was 
far  from  being  decided.  It  made  the  first  controversy 
within  the  Church,  whose  paradise  of  interior  tranquil- 
lity had  by  that  time  lasted  six  or  seven  years. 

Somewhere  in  the  year  40,  this  momentous  ques- 
tion, on  which  the  future  of  Christianity  depended, 
was  thus  thrown  open.  Peter  and  Philip  had  saga- 
ciously divined  the  true  solution,  and  had  baptised 
pagans.  The  two  accounts  which  we  find  in  "Acts," 
of  which  each  seems  to  have  been  partly  modelled  on 
the  other,  will  appear  on  examination  to  have  been 
composed  on  system  \Tendenz\.  The  writer  belongs  to 
the  party  of  peace,  which  favoured  the  admission  of 
gentiles,  and  was  reluctant  to  acknowledge  the  vio- 
lent dissensions  that  had  followed.  In  writing  of  the 
eunuch,  the  centurion,  and  even  the  conversion  of  Sa- 
maritans, it  is  very  clear  that  his  intention  is  not  only 
to  tell  the  fact,  but  to  find .  precedents  for  a  judgment. 
Still,  we  cannot  admit  that  he  invented  his  facts.  The 
conversion  of  the  queen  of  Ethiopia's  eunuch,  and  that 
of  the  centurion  Cornelius,  may  be  taken  to  be  real 
events,  set  in  their  present  form  by  a  writer  who  com- 
posed his  account  according  to  the  needs  of  the  time  at 
which  he  wrote. 

Here  we  note  that  Paul,  who  ten  or  eleven  years  later 
laid  such  stress  upon  this  question,  has  as  yet  no  hand 
in  it.  He  was  still  in  the  Hauran,  or  at  Damascus,  en- 
gaged in  his  task  of  preaching,  arguing  with  the  Jews, 
displaying  all  the  energy  in  defence  of  the  new  faith 
that  he  had  formerly  shown  in  his  attacks  upon  it.     The 


i88  THE  APOSTLES. 

same  bigotry  which  had  before  used  him  as  its  tool  was 
now  just  as  hot  in  its  pursuit  of  him.  The  Jews,  deter- 
mined to  break  him  down,  got  an  order  for  his  arrest 
from  the  local  officer  (ethnarch)  who  governed  Damas- 
cus in  the  name  of  Hareth  (Aretas),  and  Paul  hid  him- 
self. To  please  the  Jews,  the  governor  set  guards  at 
the  gates  to  seize  him,  knowing  that  he  would  try  to 
escape ;  but  the  disciples  let  him  down  by  night  in  a 
basket  from  the  window  of  a  house  that  jutted  over  the 
city  wall ;  ^  and  so  he  was  safe. 

Clear  of  this  danger,  Paul  once  more  thought  of  re- 
turning to  Jerusalem.  He  had  now  been  for  three 
years  a  Christian  (Gal.  i.  18),  but  as  yet  had  met  none 
of  the  apostles.  His  sturdy,  unbending  temper,  inclined 
to  solitude,  had  at  first  made  him  turn  his  back,  as  it 
were,  upon  the  whole  of  the  great  household  he  had 
entered  against  his  will,  and  choose  for  his  first  field  of 
labour  a  new  region,  where  he  would  find  no  associate. 
But  now  there  had  risen  in  him  a  desire  to  see  Peter 
(Gal.  i.  18),  whose  leading  rank  he  acknowledged, 
speaking  of  him,  as  others  did,  by  the  name  Kepha, 
"  the  Rock."  And  so  he  returned  to  Jerusalem  by  the 
same  road  that  he  had  traversed  three  years  before,  in 
so  opposite  a  state  of  mind. 

At  Jerusalem  he  found  himself  in  an  exceedingly 
false  and  embarrassing  position.  The  story  had  reached 
there,  that  the  persecutor  had  become  the  most  zealous 
of  champions,  the  ablest  defender  of  the  faith  he  had 
set  out  to  destroy  (Gal.  i.  23) ;  but  there  were  still 
strong  prejudices  against  him.  Many  feared  that  the 
whole  thing  was  a  diabolical  plot  of  his  contriving. 
He  had  been  known  to  be  so  infuriated,  so  cruel,  so 

1  2  Cor.  ii.  32,  33  ;  Acts  ix.  23-25. 


CHURCH  IN  JUD.SA.  189 


eager  to  break'  into  houses  and  wrench  open  family 
secrets  in  search  of  his  victims,  that  he  was  thought 
capable  of  playing  that  hateful  farce,  so  as  the  more 
effectually  to  ruin  those  he  hated  (Acts  ix.  26).  He 
seems  at  this  time  to  have  lived  in  Peter's  house  (Gal. 
i.  18).  Many  of  the  disciples  refused  to  listen  to  his 
advances,  and  kept  their  distance ;  but  Barnabas,  who 
was  a  man  of  heart  and  resolute,  took  just  now  a 
decisive  step.  As  a  native  of  Cyprus  and  a  new  con- 
vert, he  understood  Paul's  position  better  than  the 
Galilgean  disciples  could.  He  came  straight  to  him, 
took  him  by  the  hand  (so  to  speak),  introduced  him  to 
the  most  suspicious  among  them,  pledging  himself  for 
his  fidelity  (Acts  ix.  27).  We  cannot  be  quite  sure  that 
this  generous  act  of  Barnabas  belongs  to  the  short 
time  (of  two  weeks)  which  Paul  now  spent  in  Jerusa- 
lem ;  but  the  account  undoubtedly  gives  a  correct  view 
of  the  true  relations  between  the  two.  By  this  saga- 
cious act  of  kindness,  Barnabas  earned  the  warmest 
gratitude  of  the  Christian  world.  He  first  saw  clearly 
who  and  what  Paul  was ;  to  him  it  is  that  the  Church 
owes  the  most  eminent  among  its  founders.  The  friend- 
ship of  these  two  apostolic  men,  —  a  friendship  so  rich 
in  results,  unshadowed  by  any  cloud  in  spite  of  many  a 
disagreement,  afterwards  brought  about  their  close  asso- 
ciation in  the  field  of  missionary  labour  among  the 
Gentiles.  Their  friendship,  as  we  may  say,  dates  from 
this  first  stay  of  Paul  in  Jerusalem.  Among  the  early 
causes  of  the  world's  faith  we  must  reckon  that  gene- 
rous act  when  Barnabas  held  out  his  hand  to  Paul, 
then  suspected  and  forsaken  ;  that  penetrating  intuition 
which  made  him  discover  the  soul  of  an  apostle  under 
the  aspect  of  humiliation ;  that  prompt  frankness  which 


loo  THE  APOSTLES.     \ 

broke  the  ice  and  threw  down  the  barAnr  created  by  the 
evil  antecedents  of  this  stranger-convert  —  perhaps  too 
by  certain  traits  in  his  own  character  —  between  him 
and  those  who  were  henceforth  to  be  his  brothers. 

Paul,  meanwhile,  shunned  the  company  of  the  apostles 
as  if  on  system.  It  is  he  who  says  this,  and  takes  pains 
even  to  confirm  it  by  an  oath :  he  saw  (he  says)  only 
Peter  and  James  "the  Lord's  brother"  (Gal.  i.  19,  20). 
His  stay  can  hardly  have  lasted  more  than  two  weeks 
{id.  i.  18).  The  Book  of  Acts  differs  from  "  Galatians  '* 
in  making  this  stay  both  longer  and  sooner  after  his 
conversion,  making  too  much,  apparently,  of  certain 
murderous  plots  and  complications  (ix.  28,  29) ;  but 
the  epistle  says,  expressly,  "  fifteen  days,"  and  must  • 
here  have  the  preference.  It  is  true  that,  when  he 
wrote  "  Galatians  "  (about  56),  Paul  was  engaged  in 
controversy,  and  under  motives  which  may  have  warped 
his  account,  so  as  to  represent  the  apostles  as  more  dry 
and  imperious  in  tone  than  perhaps  they  were.  His 
motive,  at  this  time,  was  to  show  that  he  had  received 
no  instructions  at  Jerusalem,  and  was  in  no  sense  the 
commissioned  agent  of  the  Twelve,  who  had  their  quar- 
ters in  Jerusalem.  Here  (he  insists)  his  bearing  had 
been  the  lofty  and  independent  bearing  of  a  master  who 
shuns  the  society  of  other  masters,  so  as  not  even  to 
seem  to  be  their  subordinate ;  not  the  penitent  and 
humble  bearing  of  a  guilty  man  remorseful  of  his  past, 
as  would  appear  from  the  account  in  Acts.  We  cannot 
believe  that  in  41,  within  three  years  of  his  conversion, 
Paul  was  already  prompted  by  the  jealous  anxiety  to 
assert  his  independence  which  he  showed  at  a  later  time. 
His  scant  dealings  with  the  apostles  and  his  short  stay 
in  Jerusalem  were  far  more  likely  due  to  his  embarrass- 


THE  CHURCH  IN  /UDJSA.  191 

ment  in  the  company  of  persons  so  different  in  temper 
and  strongly  prejudiced  against  him  than  to  a  super- 
subtile  policy,  which  led  him  to  anticipate,  fifteen  years 
in  advance,  the  annoyances  that  might  come  from  too 
close  intimacy  with  them. 

In  short,  the  "  wall  of  partition  "  (as  we  may  call  it) 
which  now  stood  between  the  apostolic  group  and  Paul 
arose  chiefly  from  the  difference  in  their  character  and 
education.  The  apostles  were  all  from  Galilee ;  they  had 
attended  at  none  of  the  great  Jewish  schools ;  they 
had  seen  Jesus,  and  kept  the  memory  of  his  words;  they 
were  good  and  pious  natures,  standing  a  little,  now  and 
then,  upon  their  dignity,  but  with  the  open  hearts  of 
children.  Paul  was  a  man  of  action,  full  of  fire,  with 
but  slight  turn  for  mystical  piety,  enlisted  by  a  power 
mightier  than  his  own  will  in  a  sect  which  was  in  no 
sense  his  first  choice.  His  habitual  temper,  as  we  see 
best  in  "  Galatians,"  was  that  of  protest  and  revolt. 
His  Jewish  training  had  been  much  more  rigid  than 
that  of  any  among  his  new  associates.  But,  according 
to  the  common  view  among  Christians,  he  was  at  a 
great  disadvantage  in  not  having  known  Jesus,  or  being 
of  his  direct  appointment.  Now  he  was  not  the  man 
to  accept  a  secondary  rank.  His  haughty  individuality 
demanded  an  independent  part.  About  this  time,  as 
we  may  suppose,  the  strange  idea  took  root  in  his  mind 
that,  after  all,  he  had  no  ground  to  think  himself  less 
favoured  that  those  who  had  known  Jesus  and  been  of 
his  adoption,  —  since  he  too  had  seen  Jesus,  and  had  re- 
ceived from  him  a  direct  revelation,  with  the  charge  of 
his  apostolate.  Even  those  who  had  been  privileged  to 
see  the  risen  Christ  in  person  had  no  advantage  over 
him.     Although  the  "  last  of  all "  (as  he  says),  his  own 


192  THE  APOSTLES. 

vision  had  been  no  less  remarkable  than  theirs ;  while 
it  had  been  under  circumstances  that  set  upon  it  a  pecu- 
liar seal  of  importance  and  distinction.^  This  was  a 
great  mistake !  The  discourse  of  even  the  humblest 
disciple  of  Jesus  still  had  in  it  the  echo  of  his  voice. 
Paul,  with  all  his  Jewish  learning,  could  not  make  good 
the  great  lack  resulting  from  his  late  initiation.  The 
Christ  whom  he  had  seen  on  the  way  to  Damascus  was 
not,  whatever  he  might  say,  the  Christ  of  Galilee,  but 
the  Christ  of  his  own  imagination,  of  his  own  proper 
senses.  Diligent  as  he  may  have  been  to  gather  up  the 
Master's  very  words,^  he  was  in  this  only  a  disciple 
in  the  second  degree.  We  may  even  doubt  whether,  if 
he  had  met  Jesus  in  his  lifetime,  he  would  have  been 
drawn  to  him.  His  doctrine  must  needs  be  his  own, 
not  that  of  Jesus ;  the  revelations  he  is  so  proud  of  are 
the  birth  of  his  own  brain. 

Thoughts  such  as  these,  which  he  did  not  as  yet  ven- 
ture to  impart  to  any  other,  must  have  made  Jerusalem 
an  uncomfortable  place  of  stay.  At  the  end  of  the  fif- 
teen days  he  bade  Peter  adieu  and  left.  He  had  seen 
so  few  that  he  could  say  that  no  one  in  all  the  churches 
of  Judaea  knew  his  face,  or  anything  about  him  except- 
ing by  report  (Gal.  i.  22,  23).  He  afterwards  alleged 
that  this  sudden  departure  was  due  to  a  revelation ; 
saying  that  one  day,  while  praying  in  the  Temple,  he 
saw  Jesus  in  person,  and  received  from  him  a  com- 
mand instantly  to  leave  Jerusalem  "  because  here  they 
were  not  inclined  to  receive  my  testimony."     In  rec- 

1  Gal.  i.  11,  12,  and  elsewhere  ;  1  Cor.  ix.  1 ;  xv.  8;  2  Cor.  xi.  21-23  ; 
xii.  2-4. 

2  As  we  see,  more  or  less  directly,  in  Rom.  xii.  14 ;  1  Cor.  xiii.  2  ;  2 
Cor.  iu.  6 ;  1  Thess.  iv.  8 ;  v.  2,  6. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  JUD^A,  193 

ompense  of  these  hardships,  Jesus  promised  him  the 
apostleship  of  distant  nations,  and  an  auditor}'-  more 
willing  to  receive  his  word  (Acts  xxii.  17-21).  Those 
who  afterwards  wished  to  efface  the  scars  of  the  numer- 
rous  rendings  caused  in  the  Church  by  the  entrance  of 
this  insubordinate  disciple,  represented  that  he  had 
spent  a  long  time  in  Jerusalem,  associating  with  the 
disciples  on  terms  of  the  completest  liberty ;  but  when 
he  began  to  address  the  hellenistic  Jews,  they  had 
nearly  killed  him,  so  that  the  brethren,  watchful  for  his 
safety,  had  conducted  him  to  Csesarea  (Acts  ix.  29-36). 
That  he  went  from  Jerusalem  to  Csesarea  there  may 
be  no  reason  to  doubt.  But  he  did  not  stay  there  long, 
proceeding  thence  to  pass  through  Syria,  and  then  Cilicia 
(Gal.  i.  21).  He  was,  no  doubt,  already  engaged  in 
preaching,  but  quite  independently,  and  taking  counsel 
with  no  one.  During  this  period,  which  we  may 
reckon  at  two  years,^  he  remained  at  Tarsus,  and  the 
churches  of  Cilicia  may  have  now  been  founded  by 
him.^  But  Paul's  life  was  not,  at  this  time,  what  we 
afterwards  find  it  to  be.  He  did  not  assume  the  title 
of  apostle,  which  was  as  yet  strictly  confined  to  the 
Twelve ;  his  first  assertion  of  it  is  in  "  Galatians  "  (of 
date  about  56),  which  seems  (ii.  7-10)  to  imply  that  he 
received  it  five  years  earlier.^  It  was  only  on  parting 
with  Barnabas  in  45  that  he  entered  on  that  course  of 
religious  wandering  and  preaching  which  has  made  him 
the  type  of  the  travelling  missionary. 

1  Acts  ix.  30 ;  xi.  25 ;  Gal.  i.  18 ;  ii.  4  (the  clearest  date  of  time). 

2  Acts  XV.  23,  41.     Cilicia  had  a  church  in  51. 

8  He  does  subscribe  himself  as  apostle  in  First  and  Second  Thessalo- 
nians,  which  are  of  date  53;  the  use  of  the  word  in  1  Thess.  ii.  6  is 
unofficial.  Paul  is  never  called  an  apostle  by  the  writer  of  Acts :  the  use 
in  xiv.  4,  14  is  exceptional. 

13 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ANTIOCH. — A.  D.    41. 

Step  by  step,  the  new  faith  was  now  making  astonishing 
advance.  Disciples  from  Jerusalem,  scattered  abroad 
by  the  death  of  Stephen,  followed  up  their  victories 
along  the  Phoenician  coast,  and  as  far  as  Cyprus  and 
Antioch.  Their  appeal  at  first  was  strictly  confined  to 
Jews  (Acts  xi.  19). 

The  centre  of  Christianity  in  northern  Syria  was 
Antioch, "  the  metropolis  of  the  East,"  and  the  third  city 
of  the  world,  next  in  rank  after  Rome  and  Alexandria.^ 
Here  was  a  population  of  more  than  150,000,  almost  as 
large  as  that  of  Paris  in  the  early  part  of  our  century,^ 
and  here  resided  the  imperial  legate  (Governor-General) 
of  Syria.  It  had  been  a  very  splendid  city  under  the 
Seleucidse,  and  had  only  gained  by  the  Roman  occupa- 
tion. In  general,  the  Greek  dynasty  was  in  advance 
of  the  Roman  in  the  art  of  the  theatrical  decoration  of 
great  cities,  —  temples,  aqueducts,  baths,  and  courts  of 
justice ;  nothing  lacked  to  Antioch  of  what  was  needed 
to  make  a  great  Syrian  capital  of  the  period.  The 
streets  were  lined  with  colonnades,  and  the  open  spaces 
were  decorated  with  statues,  with  greater  symmetry 

1  Jos.  War,  iii.  2:  4;  Strabo,  xvi.  2:  5. 

'  Otfried  Miiller,  Antiq.  Antioch.  (Gottingen,  1839),  68.  Chrysostom, 
In  S.  Ignat.  4;  In  Matt.  (hom.  85:  4),  reckons  the  population  of  Antioch 
at  200,000,  omitting  slaves,  children,  and  the  wide  suburbs.  At  present 
it  contains  about  12,000. 


ANTIOCH.  195 

and  regularitj''  than  elsewhere;  similar  features  in 
Palmyra,  Gerasa,  Gadara,  and  Sebaste  being  probably 
imitated  from  the  grand  Corso  of  Antioch.  This  Corso, 
with  four  ranges  of  columns,  forming  two  sheltered 
arcades  with  a  broad  avenue  between,  traversed  the 
city  from  side  to  side,^  a  length  of  thirty-six  stadia 
(nearly  four  and  a  half  miles).  Besides  these  vast 
constructions  for  public  convenience,  Antioch  could 
boast  of  what  few  Syrian  towns  possessed,  —  master- 
pieces of  Greek  art,  admirable  statues,  classic  works 
executed  with  a  refinement  of  skill  which  this  ag-e 
could  not  even  imitate.^  Since  its  foundation  (b.  c.  300), 
Antioch  had  been  a  purely  Grecian  city.  The  Macedo- 
nian subjects  of  Antigonus  and  Seleucus  had  brought 
into  this  region  of  the  lower  Orontes  their  most  living 
memories,  their  worships,  and  their  local  names.^  Greek 
mythology  had  created  here,  as  it  were,  a  second  home, 
which  displayed  numerous  "  holy  places "  sacred  to 
that  mythology.  Antioch  was  devoted  to  the  worship 
of  Apollo  and  the  Nymphs.  An  exquisite  spot  called 
Daphne,  at  two  hours'  distance  from  the  city,  recalled 
to  the  memory  of  these  invaders  the  most  charming  of 
the  Greek  fables.  Daphne  was  not  an  original,  but  a 
copy,  a  counterfeit  of  the  native  myths  of  Greece, — 
like  those  bold  importations  by  which  primitive  tribes 
convey  from  land  to  land   their  mythical  geography, 

^  Traces  of  this  splendid  avenue  are  still  found  near  BSb  Bolos 
(Paul's  Gate). 

2  See  Libanius,  Antioch.  342,  344;  Pausanias,  vi.  2:  7;  Malala,  p.  201; 
Visconti,  Mux.  Pio-Clem.  iii.  46  ;  also,  medals  and  coins  of  Antioch. 

'  Viz.,  Pieria,  Bottia,  Peneius,  Tempe,  Castalia,  the  Olympic  games, 
lopolis  (so  named  for  lo,  mythical  mother  of  the  Ionic  race).  The 
city's  fame  was  claimed  to  be  due  to  Inachos,  Orestes,  Daphne,  and 
Triptolemos. 


196  THE  APOSTLES. 

their  Berecynthian  Cybele,  their  Arvanda,  their  Ida 
and  Olympus.  These  Greek  fables  here  made  a  very 
antiquated  religion,  hardly  more  serious  than  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses.  The  old  religions  of  the  country,  par- 
ticularly that  of  Mount  Casius,^  gave  a  slightly  more 
sober  aspect  to  this  sham.  But  the  Syrian  levity, 
the  Babylonish  trickery,  and  all  forms  of  Asiatic  impos- 
ture, here  mingling  on  the  frontier  of  two  civilisations, 
had  made  Antioch  a  capital  of  lies,  a  sink  of  every 
infamy. 

Side  by  side  with  the  Greek  population,  more 
crowded  here  than  anywhere  else  in  the  East  except- 
ing Alexandria,  Antioch  always  contained  a  large  num- 
ber of  native  Syrians,  speaking  Aramaic.^  These  made 
a  lower  class,  living  chiefly  in  the  suburbs,  or  in 
the  populous  villages  that  made  a  broad  belt  about 
the  capital,^  —  Charandama,  Ghisira,  Gandigura,  Apate 
(mostly  Syrian  names).^  Intermarriage  of  Syrians  and 
Greeks  was  common ;  and  this,  with  a  decree  of  Seleu- 
cus  that  none  but  a  citizen  should  live  within  the  city, 
had  made  at  Antioch,  in  its  three-and-a-half-centuries' 
existence,  one  of  the  most  mixed  populations  to  be 
found  anywhere.  The  degradation  of  character  was 
horrible ;  for  it  is  the  nature  of  these  hot-houses  of 
moral  rottenness  to  drag  down  each  population  to  the 
same  level.  We  can  hardly  form  a  notion  of  the 
degree  of  corruption  reached  by  humanity  at  Antioch, 
even  from  the  present  baseness  of  certain  cities  in  the 

*  See  Malala,  199  ;  Spartianus,  Adrian,  14;  Julian,  Misopogon,  361,  2; 
Ammiauus  Marc.  xxii.  14;  Eckhel,  Doct.  num.  vet.  i.  3:  326;  Guigniaut, 
Relig.  de  VAntiq.  pi.  268. 

^  Chrysost.  Ad  Pop.  Ant.  hom.  xix.  1 ;  De  sanct.  mart.  1  (ii.  651). 
8  Liban.  348. 

*  Act.  SS.  Mail  v.  383,  409,  414-416;  Assemani,  Bib.  Or.  ii.  323. 


ANTIOCH. 


197 


Levant,  which  are  ruled  by  a  spirit  of  intrigue,  and 
given  wholly  over  to  schemes  of  low  cunning.  It  was 
an  untold  mass  of  tricksters,  quacks,  low  comedians, 
dealers  in  magic,  miracle-mongers,  sorcerers,^  and  im- 
postor-priests ;  a  town  of  races,  games,  dances,  proces- 
sions, holidays,  and  orgies ;  luxury  unbridled,  every 
Oriental  craze ;  the  vilest  of  superstitions,  and  a  fanati- 
cism of  revel.^  By  turns  fawning  and  ungrateful,  cow- 
ardly and  insolent,  the  people  of  Antioch  were  the 
perfect  model  of  the  senile  mobs  of  Caesarism,  —  men 
without  a  country,  without  nationality,  family  honour, 
or  a  name  to  be  protected.  The  broad  avenue  that 
crossed  the  city  was  like  a  theatre,  where  all  day  long 
poured  the  ebb  and  flow  of  an  idle  populace,  empty- 
headed,  fickle,  riotous,^  quick-witted  at  times,*  fond  of 
street-songs,  parodies,  jests,  and  all  manner  of  frivoli- 
ties.^ The  town  was  much  given  to  letters,^  but  to  a 
mere  literature  of  rhetoricians.'^  There  were  extraor- 
dinary spectacular  shows :  games  in  which  bevies  of 
dancing  girls  took  part,  barely  clad  in  a  mere  waist- 
cloth  ;  ^  and,  at  the  celebrated  festival  of  Maioiima, 
troops  of  public  women  swam  about  in  tanks  of  clear 

1  Juven.  Sat.  iii.  62;  Statius,  Silvce,  i.  6:  72;  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  69. 

2  Malala,  284,  287;  Liban.  De  ang.  555;  De  care,  vinctis,  455;  Ad 
Timoc.  385;  Antioch.  323;  Philostr.  Vit.  A  poll.  i.  16;  Lucian,  De  Salt.  76; 
Diod.  Sic.  fr.  34:  34;  Chrysost.  Horn.  7  in  Matt.  5;  73  in  Matt.  3;  De 
consubst.  i.  501;  De  Anna,  iv.  730;  De  David,  iii.  1  (iv.  768-770);  Julian, 
Misop.  343,  350  (Spanheim);  Acta  S.  Theklce,  70  (Antwerp,  1603). 

8  Philostr.  Apoll.  iii.  58;  Auson.  Clar.  Urb.  2;  Jul.  Capitol.  Verus,  7; 
Marc.  Aurel.  25;  Herodian,  ii.  10;  Suidas,  'lo^iavos  (Jovian);  John  of 
Antioch,  Exc.  Vol.  884. 

*  Julian,  Misop.  344,  365;  Eunap.  Sophistce,  496;  Amm.  Marc.  xxii.  14. 

^  Chrysost.  De  Lazaro,  ii.  11. 

«  Cic.  Pro  Arch.  3. 

'  Philostr.  Vit.  Apoll.  iii.  58. 

8  Malala,  287-289. 


198  THE  APOSTLES. 

water.^  It  was  like  a  drunken  revel,  a  dream  of  Sarda- 
napalus,  into  which  every  indulgence,  every  form  of 
debauch  plunged  pell-mell,  not  without  a  certain  re- 
straint of  elegance.  Here  was  the  chief  source  of  that 
river  of  filth  which  (says  Juvenal)  poured  forth  from 
the  Orontes  to  deluge  Rpme.^  Two  hundred  special 
officers  {decuriones)  had  it  in  charge  to  regulate  the 
ceremonies  and  festal  shows.^  The  civil  administration 
held  vast  public  domains,  whose  revenue  was  divided 
by  duumvirs  among  the  poorer  citizens.*  Like  every 
great  pleasure-resort,  Antioch  had  its  wretched  lowest 
class,  living  from  public  dole  or  sordid  gain. 

That  this  seat  of  moral  depravation  did  not  quite 
degenerate  into  mere  brutish  ugliness  was  due  to  the 
infinite  charm  of  nature  and  the  beauty  of  its  works  of 
art.  The  situation  of  Antioch  is  one  of  the  loveliest  in 
the  world.  The  city  occupied  the  space  between  the 
Orontes  and  the  slopes  of  Mount  Silpius,  a  spur  of  the 
Casian  range.  The  abundance  and  beauty  of  its  waters 
had  no  equal.^  The  city-wall,  which  climbs  steep  cliffs 
by  a  true  marvel  of  military  engineering,^  embraced 
the  mountain  summit,  and,  with  rocky  peaks  of  vast 
height,  made  a  sculptured  coronet  wondrously  impres- 
sive. This  arrangement  of  the  defences,  combining  the 
advantages  of  the  old  hill-city  {acropolis)  with  those  of 
a  great  fortified  town,  was  a  favourite  one  among  the 

^  Liban.  Antioch.  355,  356. 

*  Juv.  Sat.  iii.  62 ;  see  the  Latin  lexicon  under  ambubaia,  the  name  of 
a  class  of  Syrian  girls  in  Rome  (the  word  ambuba  is  Syriac). 

*  Liban.  Antioch.  315;  De  care,  vinct.  455;  Julian,  Misop.  367. 

*  Liban.  Pro  rhet.  211;  Antioch.  303. 
^  Liban.  Antioch.  354. 

*  The  same  feature  is  still  visible,  as  in  the  time  of  Justinian,  when 
the  wall  was  built. 


ANTIOCH. 


199 


generals  of  Alexander,  as  we  see  at  Seleucia  (of  Pieria), 
Epliesus,  Smyrna,  and  Thessalonica  {Salmiica).  It  gave 
the  opportunity  of  astonishing  prospects.  Antioch  held 
within  its  walls  elevations  of  more  than  seven  hundred 
feet,  cliffs  and  torrents,  precipices  and  deep  gorges,  cas- 
cades and  grots  almost  inaccessible,  and,  amid  all  these, 
delicious  gardens.-^  A  heavy  thicket  of  myrtle,  flower- 
ing shrubs,  laurel,  evergreens  of  the  tenderest  hue, 
rocks  draped  with  carnation,  hyacinth,  and  cyclamen, 
give  to  these  rude  heights  the  aspect  of  hanging  flower- 
beds. The  variety  of  flowers,  the  bright-green  turf, 
made  up  of  innumerable  delicate  grasses,  and  the  beauty 
of  the  plane-trees  along  the  river  brink,  fill  the  heart 
with  gaiety,  and  the  air  with  that  soft  fragrance  which 
intoxicated  the  high  genius  of  Chrysostom,  Libanius, 
and  the  emperor  Julian.  On  the  right  bank  of  the 
Orontes  spreads  a  broad  plain,  bounded  on  one  side  by 
the  mountain  range  of  Amanus,  and  the  strange  irregu- 
lar peaks  of  Pieria,  and  on  the  other  by  the  table- 
land of  Cyrrhestice,^  beyond  which  lies  the  dangerous 
presence  of  Arabia  and  the  desert.  The  valley  of  the 
Orontes,  opening  to  the  west,  puts  this  inland  basin  in 
touch  with  the  sea,  or  rather,  with  the  vast  Western 
world,  in  the  heart  of  which  the  Mediterranean  has 
always  made  a  sort  of  neutral  highway,  or  bond  of 
federation. 

Among  the  various  colonies  attracted  by  the  liberal 
policy  of  the  Seleucids  to  the  Syrian  capital,  the  Jewish 
was  one  of  the  most  numerous.^    It  dated  from  the 

1  Liban.  337-339. 

2  The  lake  Ak-Deniz,  which  now  limits  the  district  of  AntakieTi,  did  not 
exist,  apparently,  in  antiquity:  Ritter,  Erdkunde,  xvii.  1149,  1613. 

8  Jos.  Ant.  xii.  3:1;  xiv.  12:  6  ;  War,  ii.  18;  vii.  3:  2-A. 


200  THE  APOSTLES. 

time  of  Seleucus  Nicator  (b.  c.  316-280),  and  held  the 
same  rights  with  the  Greeks.-^  Though  the  Jews  had  a 
governor  (dhnarch)  of  their  own,  their  relations  with 
the  pagans  were  very  frequent.  Here,  as  at  Alex- 
andria, these  relations  often  came  to  contentions  and 
aggressions,^  and  on  the  other  hand  gave  opportunity 
for  an  active  religious  propaganda.  The  official  poly- 
theism became  more  and  more  unsatisfying  to  serious 
minds;  and  thus  many,  who  were  disaffected  to  the 
vain  pomps  of  paganism,  were  drawn  to  the  Greek 
philosophy  or  to  Judaism.  The  number  of  proselytes 
was  large.  In  the  early  j^ears  of  Christianity,  Antioch 
had  given  to  the  church  at  Jerusalem  one  of  its  most 
influential  men,  Nicolas,  one  of  its  deacons  (Acts  vi.  5). 
Here  were  excellent  germs,  waiting  only  till  a  ray  of 
grace  should  make  them  bud  forth  and  yield  nobler 
fruit  than  had  yet  been  seen. 

The  church  at  Antioch  was  founded  by  a  few  believ- 
ers, natives  of  Cyprus,  who  had  already  been  active  in 
the  work  of  conversion  (Acts  xix.  19-21).  Hitherto 
they  had  addressed  only  Jews.  But  in  a  city  where 
pure  Jews,  Jewish  proselytes,  "  men  fearing  God  "  (half- 
Jews),  and  pure  pagans  lived  together  on  common 
terms,^  little  addresses  limited  to  a  group  of  houses 
could  not  subsist.  The  feeling  of  religious  aristocracy 
which  inflated  the  Jews  of  Jerusalem  with  pride  did 
not  exist  in  these  great  cities  of  a  civilisation  purely 
pagan,  where  the  horizon  was  wide  and  prejudice  had 
no  deep  root.  The  missionaries  from  Cyprus  and  Cy- 
rene  were  accordingly  brought  to  depart  from  their 
rule,  and  to  preach  alike  to  Jews  and  Greeks. 

1  Jos.  C.  Apion,  ii.  4;  War,  vii.  3  :  3,  4;  5 :  2. 

'■^  Malala,  244,  245 ;  Jos.  War,  vu.  5:2.  8  jog.  War,  ii.  18 : 2. 


ANTIOCH.  20I 

The  relations  between  the  Jewish  and  pagan  popula- 
tion seem  at  this  time  to  have  been  very  bad.^  But 
the  new  views  were  promoted  by  circumstances  of  an- 
other sort.  The  earthquake  which  had  severely  dam- 
aged the  city  (March  23,  37)  still  occupied  men's 
thoughts.  All  the  town  talk  was  of  a  pretender  named 
Debborius,  who  claimed  the  power  to  prevent  such  dis- 
asters by  ridiculous  charms ;  ^  and  this  may  have  kept 
the  common  mind  still  bent  towards  supernatural  events. 
However  that  may  be,  the  success  of  the  Christian 
preaching  was  very  great.  A  young  church  was  soon 
founded,  ardent,  innovating,  full  of  the  future,  because 
it  was  made  up  of  the  most  diverse  elements.  All  the 
gifts  of  the  Spirit  were  widely  diffused,  and  it  was 
already  easy  to  foresee  that  this  new  church,  freed 
from  the  narrow  Mosaism  which  drew  an  impassable 
line  about  Jerusalem,  would  be  a  second  cradle  of  Chris- 
tianity. Jerusalem,  it  may  be,  will  forever  remain  the 
religious  capital  of  the  world;  but  Antioch  was  the 
starting-point  of  the  gentile  church,  the  first  home  of 
Christian  missions.  Here  for  the  first  time  was  estab- 
lished a  Christian  church  wholly  disengaged  from  Ju- 
daism ;  here  was  founded  the  grand  propaganda  of  the 
apostolic  age ;  here  Saint  Paul  came  to  his  perfect 
growth.  Antioch  forms  the  second  stage  in  the  ad- 
vance of  Christianity.  In  respect  of  the  nobility  of 
its  Christian  attitude,  neither  Rome,  nor  Alexandria, 
nor  Constantinople  can  be  compared  with  it. 

The  topography  of  old  Antioch  is  so  far  effaced  that 

*  Malala  (245) ,  whose  account,  however,  does  not  agree  with  that  of 
Joseph  us. 

2  Malala,  243,  265  ;  comp.  Comptes  rendus  de  VAcad.  des  Inscr.  Aug. 
1865. 


202  THE  APOSTLES. 

we  should  look  in  vain,  on  a  soil  almost  void  of  any 
trace  of  antiquity,  for  the  spot  to  which  so  many  grand 
memories  cling.  Here,  as  everywhere,  Christianity  had 
to  plant  itself  in  the  poorer  quarters,  among  people  of 
petty  trades.  The  church  that  in  the  fourth  century 
was  called  "ancient"  and  "apostolic"  stood  in  the 
street  called  Singon,  near  the  Pantheon ;  ^  but  where 
this  was,  we  do  not  know.  Tradition,  with  some  vague 
hints  of  resemblance,  would  incline  us  to  seek  the 
original  Christian  quarter  somewhere  near  the  gate 
which  still  bears  the  name  of  Paul  {Bab  Bolos),^  or  at 
the  foot  of  the  eminence  called  by  Procopius  Stauriiien 
(hill  of  the  Cross),  southeastward  of  the  ramparts,  on 
the  opposite  quarter  of  the  city  from  that  now  occu- 
pied. This  was  a  quarter  among  the  poorest  in  pagan 
monuments,  but  it  still  contains  ruins  of  old  sanctuaries 
dedicated  to  Peter,  Paul,  and  John.  Here  Christianity 
seems  to  have  endured  longest,  after  the  Mahometan 
conquest ;  here,  too,  was  the  "  quarter  of  the  saints," 
as  opposed  to  the  pagan  city.  Here  the  rock  is  honey- 
combed with  grots  which  look  as  if  they  may  have 
been  the  abode  of  anchorites.  The  steep  rocky  slopes 
hereabout,  where  in  the  fourth  century  divers  pillar- 
saints  —  disciples  at  once  of  India  and  Galilee,  of  Jesus 
and  of  Buddha  —  looked  down  in  scorn  from  the  sum- 
mit of  their  pillars  or  from  their  flowery  dens  upon 
the  pleasure-loving  city,  are  probably  not  far  from  the 
dwelling-place  of  Peter  and  of  Paul.  The  church  at 
Antioch   has   a   more   connected   history,   with   fewer 

*  Malala,  242;  Athanasius,  i.  771;  Chrysost.  Ad.  pop.  Ant.\  In  inscr. 
Act.  iii.  60;  Chron.  pasch.  296;  Theodoret,  ii.  27;  iii.  2,  8,  9 ;  the  term 
" ancient"  does  not  here  apply  to  the  city. 

2  Pococke,  Descr.  192 ;  Chesney,  Exped.  i.  425. 


ANTIOCH.  203 

fables,  than  any  other.  There  may  be  some  value  in 
the  Christian  tradition  of  a  city  where  Christianity 
had  such  continuity  and  vigour. 

The  dominant  language  of  this  church  was  Greek, 
though  many  of  its  members  were  probably  from  the 
Syriac-speaking  suburbs.  Thus  Antioch  already  con- 
tained the  germs  of  two  rival  and  at  length  hostile 
churches ;  the  Grecian  part  being  that  now  represented 
by  the  Greeks  of  Syria,  both  "  orthodox "  and  "  cath- 
olic," while  the  other  may  be  said  still  to  exist  in  the 
Maronites,  who  once  spoke  Syriac,  and  now  retain  it 
as  their  sacred  tongue.  These  Maronites,  under  their 
wholly  modern  "  catholicity,"  conceal  a  remote  anti- 
quity; and  are  probably  the  last  descendants  of  the 
Syrians  before  the  days  of  Seleucus,  and  of  those  sub- 
urban dwellers  {pagani)  of  Ghisira,  Charandama,  etc.,^ 
who  very  early  set  up  their  separate  church,  were  per- 
secuted as  heretics  by  "orthodox"  emperors,  and  took 
refuge  in  the  Lebanon,  where,  partly  from  hatred  to 
the  Greek  church,  partly  from  some  deeper  affinity,^ 
they  made  alliance  with  the  Latins. 

The  Jewish  converts  at  Antioch  were  also  very  nu- 
merous (Acts  xi.  19,  20 ;  xiii.  1)  ;  but  we  may  suppose 
(as  implied  in  Gal.  ii.  11-13)  that  they  at  once  accepted 
fellowship  with  the  Gentiles,  Thus  the  generous  thought 
of  Jesus  as  to  a  religious  brotherhood  of  races  —  fore- 
shadowed, let  us  rather  say,  by  six  centuries  of  proph- 
ecy —  became  a  reality  at  length  upon  the  borders  of 
the  Orontes. 

1  The  Maronite  type  is  found,  strikingly  marked,  throughout  the  vicin- 
ity of  Antakieh,  Souehdieh,  and  Beylan. 

2  Naironi,  Euoplia  (Rome,  1694),  58;  Paul-Peter  Masad,  the  present 
patriarch  of  the  Maronites,  in  a  work  entitled  Kitdb  ed-durr  el-manzoum 
(Arabic,  printed  at  the  monastery  of  Tarnish  in  Kesrouan,  1863). 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

BARNABAS  ;    A  MISSION   TO   THE    GENTILES A.  D.  42-44. 

When  the  tidings  reached  Jerusalem  of  what  had  taken 
place  at  Antioch,  the  stir  was  great  (Acts  xi.  22-30). 
Some  of  the  leading  members  of  the  church  here,  es- 
pecially Peter,  were  of  a  better  mind;  but  the  apos- 
tolic group  continued  to  be  beset  with  the  paltriest 
ideas.  Signs  of  dissatisfaction  were  manifest  among 
some  of  the  elders,  as  soon  as  it  was  learned  that  the 
good  news  had  been  declared  to  pagans.  Barnabas  was 
the  man  who  now  suppressed  this  wretched  jealousy, 
and  saved  the  future  of  Christianity  from  the  ruin  that 
threatened  it  from  the  exclusive  policy  of  the  "  He- 
brews." Barnabas  was  the  most  enlightened  spirit  in 
the  church  at  Jerusalem,  head  of  the  liberal  party, 
which  insisted  on  progress  and  a  church  open  to  all. 
He  had  already  aided  powerfully  to  allay  the  distrust 
that  had  risen  up  against  Paul.  At  this  time  again 
his  great  influence  was  felt.  He  was  sent  to  Antioch 
as  delegate  of  the  apostolic  body ;  he  saw  and  approved 
all  that  had  there  been  done,  and  declared  openly  that 
the  Church  had  only  to  go  on  in  the  way  now  open  be- 
fore it.  Conversions  continued  to  be  numerous  {id.  xi. 
22-24).  The  living  and  creative  power  of  the  Church 
seems  to  gather  itself  up  at  Antioch.  Barnabas,  whose 
zeal  chose  always  to  be  at  the  point  of  warmest  action, 
remained  there.     His  own  church  was   thereafter  at 


BARNABAS;  A   MISSION   TO    THE   GENTILES.     205 

Antioch,  and  from  that  point  went  forth  his  most  fruit- 
ful ministry.  Christianity  has  done  this  great  man 
an  injustice,  in  not  ranking  him  among  the  very  fore- 
most of  its  founders.  Barnabas  was  the  champion  of 
every  broad  and  generous  idea.  His  clear-eyed  courage 
was  the  make-weight  against  what  might  have  been 
the  fatal  obstinacy  of  those  narrow-minded  Jews  who 
formed  the  conservative  party  in  Jerusalem. 

A  noble  thought  took  root  at  Antioch  in  this  gener- 
ous soul.  Paul  was  now  at  Tarsus,  in  a  leisure  that  to 
a  man  of  such  restless  activity  must  have  been  torture. 
His  false  position,  his  harsh  temper,  his  exaggerated 
claims,  were  a  drawback  to  his  eminent  qualities. 
There  he  stayed,  ulmost  useless,  consuming  his  heart. 
Barnabas  had  the  skill  to  put  to  its  proper  task  that 
force  which  wasted  in  an  unwholesome  and  danger- 
ous solitude.  A  second  time  he  held  out  his  hand  to 
Paul,  and  brought  that  ungovernable  nature  into  the 
companionship  of  brethren  whom  he  wished  to  shun. 
Barnabas  went  himself  to  Tarsus,  where  he  sought  out 
Paul  and  brought  him  to  Antioch  (Acts  xi.  25) ;  a  thing 
which  the  old  obstructionists  in  Jerusalem  could  never 
have  done.  To  win  this  great  sensitive  retractile  soul ; 
to  yield  before  the  weaknesses  and  humours  of  a  man 
of  fire,  singularly  self-asserting ;  to  forget  one's  self  in 
preparing  the  most  favourable  field  for  the  wayward 
energies  of  another,  —  this  is  surely  the  highest  reach 
of  human  virtue;  and  this  is  what  Barnabas  did  for 
Paul.  The  larger  part  of  Paul's  glory  is  due  to  this 
modest  man  who  ever  led  the  way  for  him,  put  him- 
self aside  in  his  presence,  discovered  his  true  value,  set 
him  in  the  light,  more  than  once  prevented  his  faults 
from  spoiling  all,  and  others'  bigotry  from  driving  him 


2o6  THE  APOSTLES. 

into  revolt,  and  thus  parried  the  deadly  stroke  which 
those  pitiful  personalities  would  have  dealt  against  the 
work  of  God. 

For  a  whole  year  Barnabas  and  Paul  were  now  as  one 
man  in  this  active  companionship.  It  was  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  years,  and  doubtless  the  happiest,  in  the 
life  of  Paul.  The  fruitful  originality  of  these  two  great 
men  lifted  the  church  at  Antioch  to  a  height  that  none 
other  had  jet  attained.  The  Syrian  capital  was  one  of 
the  most  wide-awake  places  in  all  the  world.  In  the 
Roman  imperial  period,  as  now,  social  and  religious 
questions  came  to  the  front  chiefly  in  great  populous 
centres.  A  sort  of  reaction  against  the  general  im- 
morality, which  afterwards  made  Antioch  the  home  of 
pillar-saints  and  solitaries,^  might  already  be  discerned. 
Thus  the  true  doctrine  found  here  the  best  conditions 
of  success  that  it  had  ever  met. 

One  main  circumstance  shows  that  the  new  religion 
first  had  the  full  consciousness  of  itself  at  Antioch : 
here  it  first  received  a  distinctive  name.  Hitherto  its 
adherents  had  been  known  among  themselves  as  "  the 
believers,"  "the  faithful,"  the  "brethren,"  "the  dis- 
ciples ; "  but  there  was  no  official  and  public  name  by 
which  they  might  be  distinguished.  At  Antioch  was 
formed  the  name  "Christian  "  (X/otortai^o?,  Acts  xi.  26). 
The  termination  (-anus)  is  Latin,  not  Greek,  which 
seems  to  show  that  it  was  made  by  Roman  authority, 
a  police-designation,  like  the  party-names  Herodiany 
PompdaUf  Ccesarian?     It  is  sure,  in  any  case,  to  have 

^  Libanius,  Pro  templis,  164;  De  care.  45S;  Theod.  iv.  28;  Chrysost. 
Horn,  72  in  Matt.  S;  in  EpTies.  6:4;  ml  Tim.  14:3;  Niceph.  xii.  44; 
Glycas,  257. 

2  Compare  1  Pet.  iv.  16,  Jas.  ii.  7,  and  Acts  xxvi.  28,  with  Suet.  Nero^ 
16,  and  Tac.  Ann,  xv.  44.   The  term  'Ao-tavoj  (Acts  xx.  4 ;  Philo,  Leg.  36; 


BARNABAS;  A   MISSION  TO   THE  GENTILES.      207 

been  conferred  by  the  pagan  population ;  and  it  is 
founded  on  an  error,  since  it  supposes  Christus  (Xpt- 
crros),  which  is  simply  a  translation  of  the  Hebrew 
verbal  Mashia  [Messiah)  to  be  a  personal  name.^  Many, 
indeed,  who  had  no  clear  notion  of  Jewish  or  Christian 
ideas  would  be  led  to  think  that  Christus  or  Chrestus 
was  a  party  leader  still  alive.  The  common  pronunci- 
ation, in  fact,  was  Chrestiani  (Xpr)crTLavoC)} 

The  Jews,  at  all  events,  did  not  adopt,  systemati- 
cally,^ the  name  given  by  the  Romans  to  their  schis- 
matic fellow-religionists.  They  continued  to  call  them 
"  Nazareans  "  or  "  Nazoreans,"  *  just  as  they  had  called 
Jesus  "  the  Nazarene  "  {Han  nasri  or  Han  nosri).  This 
name  has  continued  in  the  East  till  now. 

This  is  a  moment  of  high  importance.  It  is  a  solemn 
hour  when  a  new  creation  receives  its  name,  for  this  is 
the  final  testimony  to  its  existence.  From  that  hour 
the  individual  or  the  community  takes  selfhood,  and 
ceases  to  be  another.  Thus  the  forming  of  the  name 
"  Christian  "  marks  the  exact  date  when  the  Church 
of  Jesus  parted  company  with  Judaism.     The  two  re- 

Strabo,  etc.),  is  a  Latinism,  like  AaXStawt  and  the  sect-names  2ifioviavoi, 
Krjpipdiavoi,  2r]6iavoi,  etc.  The  Greek  derivative  from  Xpiaros  would  be 
Xpiare-.os-    It  is  merely  idle  to  derive  the  Latin  anus  from  the  Doric  form 

of    TjVOS. 

^  So  Tacitus  and  Suetonius  (Claudius,  25)  understand  it. 
2  Corp.  inscr.  gr.  2883  c?,  3857  p,  3865  Z;  Tert.  Apol.  3;  Lact.  Div.  inst. 
iv.  7;  and  the  old  French  Chrestien. 

*  Jas.  ii.  7  is  only  incidental. 

*  Nesara.  The  Syriac  meshihoio  and  the  Arabic  mesihi  are  comparatively 
modem ;  Galilceans  is  still  later,  given  in  disparagement  by  Julian  (Ep. 
7):  see  Greg.  Naz.  Or.  4:76;  Cyn.  Alex.  C.  Julianum,  3:89;  Philopatris 
(of  Julian's  time,  not  by  Lucian),  12;  Theod.  iii.  4.  In  Epictetus  and  M. 
Aurelius  (Med.  xi.  3)  the  name  does  not,  I  think,  mean  the  Christians, 
but  the  sicarii,  or  Zealots,  followers  of  Judas  the  Gaulonite  and  John  of 
Gischala  (see  "  Antichrist  "). 


2o8  THE  APOSTLES. 

ligions  long  continued  to  be  confounded ;  but  this  was 
only  where  Christianity  was  (so  to  speak)  checked  in 
its  growth.  The  Christian  body  in  general  promptly 
accepted  the  new  name  invented  for  it,  and  regarded  it 
as  a  title  of  honour  (1  Pet.  iv.  16  ;  Jas.  ii.  7).  When  we 
reflect  that  within  ten  years  after  the  death  of  Jesus 
his  religion  already  has  a  Greek  and  a  Latin  name  in 
the  capital  of  Syria,  we  are  astonished  at  its  rapid  pro- 
gress. Christianity  is  now  completely  weaned  from  the 
the  maternal  bosom.  The  true  thought  of  Jesus  has 
won  the  day  against  the  indecision  of  his  first  disciples. 
The  church  at  Jerusalem  is  outgrown ;  Aramaic,  the 
mother-tongue  of  Jesus,  is  unknown  to  many  among 
his  disciples.  Christianity  speaks  in  Greek  ;  and  it  has 
made  the  final  plunge  into  that  vast  whirlpool  of  the 
Greek  and  Roman  world,  from  which  it  will  part  no 
more. 

There  must  needs  be  something  extraordinary  in  the 
feverish  activity  of  thought  now  developed  in  the  youth- 
ful Church.  There  were  frequent  and  great  manifesta- 
tions of  the  Spirit  (Acts  xiii.  2).  All  thought  themselves 
inspired,  each  in  his  own  way :  some  were  "  prophets," 
others  "  pastors  and  teachers."  Barnabas,  the  "  son  of 
consolation  "  had,  no  doubt,  the  rank  of  prophet ;  Paul 
had  no  special  title.  Among  those  of  note  in  the  church 
at  Antioch  we  find  Simeon,  surnamed  Niger,  Lucius  of 
Cyrene,  Menahem  (Manaen,  Acts  xiii.  1),  foster  brother 
of  Herod  Antipas,  who  was  consequently  of  advanced 
age.  All  these  were  Jews.  Among  the  pagan  converts 
may  have  been  Euodias,  who  seems  at  a  later  time  to 
have  held  the  first  rank  in  the  church  at  Antioch.^  The 
pagans  who  responded  to  the  first  appeal  were  doubt- 

1  Euseb.  Chron.  43;  H.  E.  iii.  22;  Ignat.  Ep.  ad.  Ant.  (apocr.)  7. 


BARNABAS;  A   MISSION  TO   THE  GENTILES.      209 

less  of  a  lower  rank ;  tliey  could  make  small  display  of 
speaking  with  tongues,  preaching,  or  prophecy. 

In  the  midst  of  this  overpowering  companionship, 
Paul  kept  pace  with  the  foremost.  He  afterwards 
spoke  in  disparagement  of  the  "  gift  of  tongues  "  (1 
Cor.  xiv.),  and  it  is  likely  that  he  never  practised  it. 
But  he  had  many  visions  and  direct  revelations.  It 
was  apparently  at  Antioch  —  though  it  may  have  been 
a  little  earlier,  at  Tarsus^ —  that  he  had  the  singular 
experience  which  he  relates  as  follows  :  "  I  knew  a  man 
in  Christ,  who  fourteen  years  ago  —  whether  in  the 
body  or  out  of  the  body  I  know  not ;  God  knows  — 
was  caught  up  into  the  third  heaven.  And  I  know 
that  this  man —  God  knows  whether  in  the  body  or  out 
of  the  body  —  was  caught  up  into  paradise,  where  he 
heard  unspeakable  words,  which  it  is  not  permitted 
to  mortal  man  to  utter."  ^  Customarily  sober  and  prac- 
tical, Paul  yet  shared  the  ideas  of  his  time  on  the  super- 
natural. He  believed  that  he  himself  wrought  miracles, 
as  everybody  else  did  :  ^  those  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  which 
were  understood  (1  Cor.  xii.)  to  be  of  common  right  in 
the  Church,  surely  could  not  be  refused  to  him ! 

But  minds  kindled  with  so  hot  a  flame  could  not  be 
tied  fast  to  these  dreams  of  overflowing  piety.  They 
must  turn  straight  to  action.  All  thinking  men  were 
now  mastered  by  the  great  thought  of  missions  designed 
to  convert  the  pagan  world,  beginning  with  Asia  Minor. 

^  He  states  it  to  have  been  14  years  before  the  time  of  his  writing  (2 
Cor.  xii.  1 :  written  not  far  from  a.  d.  57). 

2  For  Jewish  ideas  of  the  successive  heavens,  see  Test,  of  the  Twelve 
Patriarchs,  Levi,  3;  Asc.  of  Isaiah,  vi.  13,  15;  vii.  3,  8  et  seq. ;  Bab. 
Talm.  Chagiga,  12  b,  14  6;  Midr.  Beresh.  rabba,  xix.  19  c;  Shem.  rabba, 
XV.  115  rf;  Bamm.  rabba,  24:  d. 

«  2  Cor.  xii.  12;  Rom.  xv.  19. 

14 


2IO  THE  APOSTLES. 

Now,  even  if  such  a  thought  had  come  to  birth  in  Jeru- 
salem, it  could  have  no  fulfilment  there.  A  great  mis- 
sionary work  requires  some  investing  of  funds.  But 
the  church  at  Jerusalem  was  very  poor  in  pecuniary 
means ;  all  its  common  treasury  went  to  the  mainten- 
ance of  the  needy,  and  often  was  not  enough  for  that. 
Contributions  had  to  be  sent  in  from  all  parts  of  the 
world,  that  these  high-minded  beggars  might  not  die 
of  famine.^  Communism  had  created  there  a  hopeless 
pauperism,  and  total  helplessness  to  undertake  any  great 
thing.  No  such  curse  had  befallen  the  church  at  An- 
tioch.  Jews  in  these  pagan  cities  had  acquired  com- 
fortable means,  and  sometimes  great  wealth ;  ^  and 
those  who  entered  the  church  brought  with  them 
considerable  property.  Thus  Antioch  furnished  the 
invested  capital  for  the  founding  of  Christianity.  We 
see  at  once  the  contrast  there  must  be,  in  temper  and 
habit,  between  the  two  churches,  due  to  this  one  circum- 
stance. Jerusalem  continued  to  be  the  city  of  "  God's 
poor"  (the  ebionim)-,  the  home  of  those  true-hearted 
Galilsean  visionaries,  who  were  heated  and  almost 
stunned  by  the  promise  of  a  kingdom  in  the  heavens 
(Jas.  ii.  5).  Antioch,  the  city  of  Paul,  which  knew 
little  of  the  word  of  Jesus  and  had  never  listened  to 
it,  was  the  headquarters  of  action  and  progress.  Jeru- 
salem was  the  city  of  the  old  apostolic  circle,  buried  in 
its  dreams,  powerless  in  presence  of  the  new  problems 
that  were  opening  up,  but  dazed  with  its  peerless  privi- 
lege, and  rich  in  its  inestimable  memories. 

All  these  points  of  contrast  were  suddenly  brought 

1  Acts  xi.  29;  xxiv.  17;  Gal.  ii.  10»,  Rom.  xv.  26;  1  Cor.  xvi.  1;  2 
Cor.  viii.  14 ;  ix.  1,  12. 

2  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  6:3,  4;  xx.  5:2. 


BARNABAS;  A   MISSION  TO   THE   GENTILES.      21 1 

into  a  glare  of  light.  The  poor  famished  church  at 
Jerusalem  had  such  utter  lack  of  foresight  that  the 
slightest  chance  might  bring  it  to  the  last  straits. 
Where  there  is  no  such  thing  as  system  in  the  hand- 
ling of  money,  where  business  is  still  in  its  ipfancy,  and 
the  opportunities  of  wealth  are  small,  famines  are  merely 
a  question  of  time.  There  was  a  dreadful  one  in  the 
fourth  year  of  Claudius  (a.  d.  44).^  "When  the  symp- 
toms of  it  began  to  be  felt,  the  elders  at  Jerusalem 
bethought  them  of  applying  to  their  brethren  in  the 
wealthier  churches  of  Syria  ;  and  a  deputation  of 
"prophets"  came  to  Antioch  (Acts  xi.  27-30).  One 
of  them,  Agabus,  reputed  to  be  a  man  of  singular 
illumination,  was  all  at  once  possessed  by  the  Spirit, 
and  foretold  the  scourge  that  would  soon  be  felt.  The 
faithful  at  Antioch  were  greatly  touched  by  the  woes 
impending  over  the  mother-church,  whose  tributaries 
they  felt  themselves  to  be.  They  made  up  a  sum,  each 
contributing  according  to  his  means,  and  put  it  in  the 
charge  of  Barnabas,  to  carry  to  the  brethren  in  Judaea.^ 
Jerusalem  was  still  long  to  be  the  capital  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  and  Jerusalem  had  its  special  prerogative :  it 
was  the  only  seat  of  the  apostles  (Gal.  i.  17-19).  But 
a  long  step  has  been  already  taken.  During  many 
years  there  has  been  only  one  church  fully  organised, 
that   at   Jerusalem,   absolute  centre  of  the   faith,  the 

1  Acts  xi.  28 ;  xii.  20 ;  Jos.  Ant.  xx.  2:  6  ;  Euseb.  ii.  8,  12  ;  Tac.  Ann. 
xii.  43 ;  Suet.  Claud.  18 ;  Dion  Cassias,  Ix.  11 ;  Aur.  Victor,  Cces.  4 ; 
Eus.  Chron.  43,  44.  Local  famines  happened  almost  every  year  under 
Claudius. 

2  Acts  (xi.  30 ;  xii.  25)  speaks  of  Paul  as  a  fellow  in  this  charge ;  but 
Paul  implies  (Gal.  ii.  1)  that  he  did  not  go  to  Jerusalem  after  his  first 
two  weeks'  stay  there,  until  he  went,  in  company  of  Barnabas,  expressly 
to  meet  the  question  of  circumcision  (see  Introd.  pp.  19-21). 


212  THE  APOSTLES. 

source  whence  all  life  flows  out,  the  home  to  which  all 
life  flows  hack.  It  is  no  longer  so.  Antioch  has  also 
its  full-grown  church,  with  its  complete  gradation  of 
spiritual  gifts,  —  a  church  whence  missions  set  forth, 
and  to  which  they  return  (Acts  xiii.  3  ;  xiv.  25;  xv.  36; 
xviii.  22,  28).  Antioch  is  now  a  second  capital;  say 
rather  a  second  heart,  with  its  own  proper  action,  and 
its  own  power  felt  in  every  direction. 

As  we  might  easily  foresee,  the  second  capital  will 
soon  gain  upon  the  first.  The  church  at  Jerusalem,  in 
truth,  declines  rapidly.  A  social  organisation  built  on 
communism  will  have  one  first  hour  of  brilliant  success ; 
for  communism  always  implies  a  great  exaltation  of  the 
common  spirit ;  but  it  must  very  rapidly  decay,  since 
communism  is  opposed  by  human  nature.  In  a  spasm 
of  virtue,  man  thinks  he  can  wholly  renounce  selfish- 
ness and  personal  advantage  ;  but  selfishness  strikes  its 
counter-blow  by  proving  that  entire  disinterestedness 
engenders  evils  still  graver  than  those  which  the  aboli- 
tion of  property  had  thought  to  do  away. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

PERSECUTION   UNDER  HEROD   AGRIPPA  —  A.  D.  44. 

Barnabas  found  the  church  at  Jerusalem  in  great 
distress.  The  year  44  was  to  this  church  a  time  of 
great  calamity.  Besides  the  famine,  it  beheld  the  kind- 
ling of  a  new  flame  of  that  persecution  which  had 
slackened  since  the  death  of  Stephen. 

Herod  Agrippa,  grandson  of  Herod  the  Great,  had 
within  the  past  three  years  succeeded  in  piecing  again 
together  his  ancestral  kingdom.  Under  favour  of  Cali- 
gula, he  had  at  length  reunited  under  his  dominion 
Batanasa,  Trachonitis,  a  part  of  Hauran,  Abilene,  Gali- 
lee, and  Peraea.^  His  fortune  was  made  by  the  base 
part  he  played  in  the  tragi-comedy  that  put  Claudius 
on  the  throne.  The  lessons  of  baseness  and  treachery 
which  this  vile  Oriental  had  given  at  Rome  availed  to 
give  him  Samaria  and  Judaea,  and  to  his  brother  Herod 
the  petty  royalty  of  Chalcis.^  The  memories  he  had 
left  at  Rome  were  of  the  worst,  and  the  cruelties  of 
Caligula  were  charged,  in  part,  to  his  counsels.^  He 
had  no  love  from  his  army,  or  from  the  pagan  towns 
Sebaste  and  Caesarea,  which  he  sacrificed  to  Jerusalem;* 
but  to  the  Jews  he  showed  himself  lavish,  fond  of  display, 

1  The  indications  of  Josephus  (Ant.  xix.  4,  War,  ii.  11)  are  fully  con- 
firmed by  inscriptions:  see  Comptes  rendus,  1865,  106-109. 

2  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  5 :  1;  6:  1;   War,  ii.  11 :  5;  Dion  Cassias,  Ix.  8. 
8  Dion  Cass.  lix.  24. 

*  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  9: 1. 


214  1'HE  APOSTLES. 

and  with  a  fellow-feeling  for  their  ills.  He  aimed  at  popu- 
larity among  them,  and  affected  a  polity  quite  opposite 
to  that  of  Herod,  who  had  his  eye  more  upon  the  Greek 
and  Roman  world  than  upon  the  little  state  of  Judaea. 
Herod  Agrippa,  on  the  contrary,  was  fond  of  Jerusalem, 
strictly  kept  the  Jewish  Law,  affected  scrupulosity,  and 
never  let  a  day  pass  without  performing  his  devotions.^ 
He  even  accepted  graciously  the  advice  of  rigourists, 
and  took  pains  to  defend  himself  against  their  censure.^ 
To  the  citizens  of  Jerusalem  he  remitted  payment  of 
the  house-tax.^  In  one  word,  the  orthodox  found  in 
him  a  king  after  their  own  heart. 

From  a  ruler  of  this  quality  it  was  inevitable  that 
the  Christians  should  suffer  persecution.  Sincere  or 
not,  Herod  Agrippa  was  a  Jewish  sovereign  in  the 
full  meaning  of  the  term.*  As  the  Herodian  house 
grew  weak,  it  turned  to  devotion.  The  broadly  pagan 
thought  of  the  founder  of  that  royal  house  —  who  as- 
pired to  group  the  most  diverse  creeds  in  one  political 
life,  under  the  empire  of  a  common  civilisation  —  was 
no  longer  to  be  found.  When  Herod  Agrippa,  as  king, 
first  set  foot  in  Alexandria,  he  was  received  as  "  King 
of  the  Jews,"  a  title  which  irritated  the  populace,  and 
drew  upon  him  evil  jests  without  end.^  What,  indeed, 
could  a  king  of  the  Jews  be,  if  not  a  protector  of  the 
Law  and  its  traditions,  a  theocratic  and  persecuting 
sovereign  ?  From  the  time  of  the  first  Herod,  under 
whom  fanaticism  was  thoroughly  held  down,  until 
the   outburst  of   the  war  that  brought   the    downfall 

1  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  6 :  1,  3;  7 :  3,  4  ;  8:2;  9:1. 

»  Ihid.  xix.  7:4. 

«  Ihid.  xix.  6:3. 

*  Juvenal,  Sat.  vi.  158,  159 ;  Persius,  Sat.  v.  180. 

'  PhUo,  In  Place.  5. 


PERSECUTION  UNDER  HEROD  AGRIPPA.  215 

of  Jerusalem,  there  was  thus  a  constantly  increasing 
growth  of  religious  heat.  The  death  of  Caligula  (Jan. 
24,  41)  had  brought  on  a  reaction  favourable  to  the 
Jews.  They  were  also,  in  general,  well  treated  by 
Claudius/  owing  to  the  influence  with  him  of  Herod 
Agrippa  and  his  brother  of  Chalcis.  He  not  only  sided 
with  the  Jews  of  Alexandria  in  their  quarrels  with 
the  other  inhabitants,  allowing  them  to  choose  their 
own  governor  {dhnarch) ;  but,  it  is  said,  granted  to 
Jews  throughout  the  empire  the  same  liberty  to  live 
after  their  own  laws  that  had  been  yielded  to  those  of 
Alexandria,  on  the  sole  condition  of  not  insulting 
other  faiths.  Some  attempts  at  renewing  the  vexations 
of  Caligula's  reign  were  suppressed.^  Jerusalem  was 
greatly  enlarged ;  the  region  Bezetha  was  added.^ 
The  hand  of  Roman  authority  was  hardly  felt,  though 
Vibius  Marsus  —  a  man  of  foresight,  ripe  in  service,  and 
of  cultivated  mind,*  who  had  succeeded  Petronius  as 
Governor-General  of  Syria  —  now  and  then  called  at- 
tention at  Rome  to  the  peril  from  these  half-indepen- 
dent royalties  in  the  East.^ 

Something  like  a  feudal  system  [of  local  military 
rule]  was  tending,  ever  since  the  death  of  Tiberius,  to 
become  fixed  upon  Syria  and  the  adjacent  districts ;  ® 
this  was,  in  truth,  a  check  upon  the  imperial  policy,  and 
had,  in  general,  very  ill  effects.  The  petty  "  kings  " 
who  visited  Rome  were  persons  of  consequence,  and 
their  influence  there  was  only  evil.     The  corruption  and 

1  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  5 :  2,  3  ;  xx.  6 :  3 ;  War,  ii.  12:  7.  . 

^  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  6:  3. 

8  Ibid.  7:2;   War,  ii.  11:  6 ;  v.  4:  2 ;  Tac.  Hist.  v.  12, 

*  Tac.  Ann.  vi.  47. 

6  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  7:  2,  8:  1 ;  XX.  1 :  1. 

«  Ibid.  xix.  8:  1. 


2i6  THE  APOSTLES. 

degradation  of  the  populace,  especially  under  Caligula, 
was  greatly  aggravated  by  the  spectacle  offered  by 
these  wretches,  who  were  seen,  one  after  another,  trail- 
ing their  purple  at  the  theatre,  in  the  imperial  palace, 
or  in  the  prisons.^  As  to  the  Jews  themselves,  we  have 
already  seen  (pp.  143, 165, 177)  that  autonomy  meant  in- 
tolerance. The  high-priesthood  went  out  of  the  family 
of  Hanan  only  at  intervals,  to  fall  into  that  of  Boethus, 
which  was  just  as  insolent  and  cruel.  A  sovereign  ruler 
anxious  to  please  the  Jews  could  not  fail  to  grant  them 
what  they  wanted  most,  harsh  treatment  of  everything 
that  went  out  of  the  line  of  strictest  orthodoxy. 

Herod  Agrippa,  in  fact,  toward  the  end  of  his  rule, 
became  a  bitter  persecutor  (Acts  xii.).  In  44,  a  little 
before  the  Passover,  he  beheaded  James  the  son  of  Zebe- 
dee,  brother  of  John,  one  of  the  chief  members  of  the 
apostolic  circle.  This  was  not  brought  up  as  a  matter 
of  religion  ;  there  was  no  investigation  before  the  San- 
hedrim ;  the  sentence  was  given  by  the  king's  purely 
arbitrary  authority,  as  in  the  case  of  John  the  Baptist : 
James  indeed  was  beheaded,  not  stoned.  Encouraged 
by  the  applause  of  the  Jews,  Herod  now  thought  to 
advance  further  in  so  easy  a  path  of  popularity  (Acts 
xii.  3).  It  was  in  the  early  days  of  the  Passover  fes- 
tival, when  there  was  commonly  a  great  access  of  fanat- 
icism. Agrippa  ordered  Peter  to  be  confined  in  the 
tower  Antonia,  intending  to  have  him  sentenced  and 
put  to  death,  with  great  display,  in  view  of  the  multi- 
tudes then  gathered  in  Jerusalem. 

An  incident  not  intelligible  to  us,  and  then  supposed 

1  Suet.  Caius,  22,  26,  35;  Dion  Cass.  lix.  24;  Ix.  8;  Tac.  Ann.  xi.  8. 
As  a  specimen  of  these  petty  kings,  see  Josephus  (^Ant.  xviii.,  xix.)  on 
Herod  Agrippa,  and  Hor.  Sat.  i.  7. 


PERSECUTION  UNDER  HEROD  AGRIPPA.  217 

to  be  miraculous,  opened  the  prison-door  to  Peter.  One 
evening,  when  many  of  the  disciples  were  met  at  the 
house  of  Mary  the  mother  of  Mark,  which  was  Peter's 
usual  abode,  a  sudden  knocking  was  heard  at  the 
door.  A  maid- servant,  who  went  to  listen,  recognised 
Peter's  voice.  Beside  herself  with  joy,  she  did  not 
open,  but  ran  in  to  report  that  he  was  there.  They 
thought  her  crazy,  but  she  vowed  that  it  was  true. 
"  Then  it  is  his  angel,"  said  some.  The  knocking  was 
repeated,  and  behold,  it  was  even  he.  The  delight  was 
boundless.  Peter  at  once  explained  his  deliverance  to 
James  the  Lord's  brother  and  to  the  rest.  It  was  be- 
lieved that  the  angel  of  God  had  entered  the  prison, 
and  broken  down  the  chains  and  bolts.  Peter's  story 
was,  in  fact,  that  all  this  had  happened  while  he  was 
in  a  sort  of  trance  ;  that  after  he  had  passed  the  first 
and  second  guard,  and  crossed  the  iron  door  which 
opened  to  the  city,  the  angel  had  gone  with  him  a 
street's  length,  and  then  left  him ;  that  he  then  came 
to  himself,  and  recognised  the  hand  of  God,  who  had 
sent  a  messenger  from  heaven  to  his  rescue.^ 

Herod  Agrippa  did  not  long  survive  these  acts  of  vio- 
lence.^ In  the  course  of  A.  d.  44,  he  went  to  Csesarea, 
to  celebrate  games  in  honour  of  Claudius.  There  was 
an  extraordinary  throng.  The  people  of  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  who  had  difficulties  with  Herod,  came  to  ask 
mercy  of  him.  Such  festivals  were  very  odious  to  the 
Jews,  as  being  given  in  the  pagan  capital  Csesarea, 
and  because  they  made  a  public  show  in  the  theatre. 
Once  before,  when  the  king  had  left  Jerusalem  under 

1  Acts  xii.  9-11.  This  account  is  so  living  and  precise  that  it  is  hard 
to  find  room  in  it  for  the  slow  growth  of  legend. 

2  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  8:2;  Acts  xx.  18-23. 


2i8  THE  APOSTLES. 

like  circumstances,  a  certain  Rabbi  Simeon  had  pro- 
posed to  declare  him  outcast  from  Judaism  and  exclude 
him  from  the  Temple ;  and  the  king  had  stooped  so  far 
as  to  set  the  rabbi  at  his  own  side  in  the  theatre,  so  as 
to  convince  him  that  nothing  was  done  there  contrary 
to  the  Law.^  Thinking  that  he  had  thus  satisfied  the 
formalists,  Herod  now  freely  indulged  his  taste  for 
pagan  displays.  On  the  second  day  of  the  festival,  he 
entered  the  theatre  very  early,  attired  in  a  garment  of 
silver  cloth,  marvellously  brilliant.  The  effect  of  this 
dazzling  tunic  in  the  splendour  of  the  rising  sun  was 
prodigious.  The  Sidonians  about  the  king  lavished 
upon  him  adulations  that  had  the  full  stamp  of  pagan- 
ism :  "  This  is  a  god,"  cried  they,  "and  not  a  man  !  " 
The  king  showed  no  indignation,  and  did  not  blame  the 
cry.  He  died  five  days  after,  —  Jews  and  Christians 
alike  believing  that  he  was  stricken  for  not  having 
repelled  with  horror  the  blasphemous  flattery.  The 
Christian  tradition  had  it  that  he  died  of  a  disease 
specially  reserved  for  the  enemies  of  God,  being  "  eaten 
of  worms."  ^  As  told  by  Josephus,  the  symptoms  would 
seem  due  rather  to  poison  ;  and  this  view  might  be  con- 
firmed by  what  is  said  (Acts  xii.  20)  of  the  suspicious 
course  of  the  Phoenicians,  in  taking  pains  to  win  the 
favour  of  Blastos,  the  king's  chamberlain. 

The  death  of  Herod  Agrippa  put  an  end  to  all  self- 
government  in  Jerusalem.  Once  more  the  city  began 
to  be  ruled  by  the  imperial  governor  {procurator),  and 
this  state  of  things  lasted  till  the  great  revolt  [24 
years] .     It  was  a  fortunate  thing  for  Christianity ;  for, 

1  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  7:  4. 

2  Acts  xii  23;  see  2  Mace.  ix.  9;  Jos.  War,  i.  33:  5;  Bab.  Talm., 
Sola,  35  a. 


PERSECUTION  UNDER  HEROD  AGRJPPA.  219 

remarkable  as  it  may  seem,  this  religion,  which  later 
was  to  undergo  so  dreadful  a  conflict  with  the  Roman 
Empire,  grew  to  its  strength  under  the  shadow  and 
protection  of  the  imperial  system.  For  it  was  Rome, 
as  I  have  several  times  remarked,  that  held  back 
Judaism  from  giving  full  sweep  to  its  instincts  of  intol- 
erance, and  thus  smothering  the  free  growth  of  what 
was  germinating  in  its  own  bosom.  Any  check  put 
upon  Jewish  authority  was  a  gain  to  the  growing  sect. 
Cuspius  Fadus,  the  first  of  this  new  line  of  governors, 
was  another  Pilate,  resolute  or  at  least  favourably  dis- 
posed. But  Claudius  continued  to  show  his  indulgence 
for  Jewish  pretensions,  chiefly  under  the  influence  of 
Herod  Agrippa  the  younger,  son  of  the  former,  whom 
he  kept  near  him  and  made  a  friend.^  After  the  short 
term  in  office  of  Cuspius  Fadus,  the  administration 
was  intrusted  to  a  Jew,  Tiberius  Alexander,  a  nephew 
of  Philo,  and  son  of  the  prefect  ["  alabarch,"  or  overseer 
of  the  Arab  district]  of  Jews  in  Alexandria,  who  at- 
tained high  offices,  and  played  a  great  part  in  the  polit- 
ical affairs  of  the  century.  It  is  true  that  the  Jews 
had  no  liking  for  him,  and,  not  without  reason,  regarded 
him  as  an  apostate,^ 

To  stop  short  these  ever-recurring  disputes,  recourse 
was  had  to  a  well-judged  expedient,  the  partial  sever- 
ing of  the  temporal  from  the  spiritual  domain.  The 
political  power  remained  with  the  procurator ;  while 
Herod  king  of  Chalcis,  brother  of  the  elder  Agrippa, 
was  appointed  prefect  of  the  Temple,  keeper  of  the  pon- 

^  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  6:1;  xx.  1:  1,  2. 

2  Ihid.  XX.  5:  2;  War,  ii.  15:  1;  18:  7;  iv.  10:  6;  v.  1:  6;  Tac.  Ann. 
XV.  28;  Hist.  i.  11,  ii.  79;  Suet.  Vesp.  6;  Cory,  inscr.  gr.  4957;  iii.  311; 
also,  "  Antichrist,"  pass. 


220  THE  APOSTLES. 

tifical  robes,  and  treasurer  of  the  sacred  chest,  with  the 
right  of  nominating  the  high-priest.-^  At  his  death  in 
48,  the  young  Herod  Agrippa  succeeded  his  uncle  in 
these  trusts,  which  he  retained  until  the  great  war.  In 
all  this,  Claudius  showed  himself  full  of  good-will. 
The  higher  Roman  officials  in  Syria,  though  less  dis- 
posed to  concession  than  the  emperor,  also  displayed 
much  moderation.  The  procurator  Ventidius  Cumanus 
yielded  so  far  as  to  behead,  in  the  presence  of  an  armed 
line  of  Jews,  a  soldier  who  had  torn  up  a  copy  of  the 
Pentateuch.^  It  was  all  in  vain ;  and  the  historian  has 
good  reason  for  dating  from  the  administration  of 
Cumanus  the  disorders  that  led  to  the  destruction  of 
Jerusalem. 

In  these  troubles,  to  judge  from  the  silence  of  Jose- 
phus,  Christianity  had  no  part.  But,  like  Christianity 
itself,  these  very  troubles  were  a  symptom  of  the  ex- 
traordinary fever  then  consuming  the  Jewish  people,  and 
of  the  Divine  task  then  being  fulfilled  within  it.  Jewish 
faith  had  never  made  such  progress.^  There  was  no 
sanctuary  in  all  the  world  whose  fame  was  spread  more 
widel}^,  or  where  more  offerings  were  made,  than  the 
Temple  at  Jerusalem.*  In  many  portions  of  Syria 
Judaism  had  become  the  prevailing  religion.  The  As- 
monaean  kings  had  here  violently  converted  entire 
populations,  —  Idumseans,  Iturgeans,  and  others.^  In 
many  cases  circumcision  had   been   forcibly  imposed.^ 

1  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  1:3. 

2  lUd.  XX.  5:  4 ;   War,  ii.  12:  2. 

8  Jos.  C.  Aipion,  ii.  39  ;  Dion  Cass.  Ixvi.  4. 

*  Jos.  War,  iv.  4 :  3 ;  V.  13 :  6 ;  Suet.  Aug.  93 ;  Strabo,  xvi.  2 :  34,  37 ;  Tac. 
Hist.  V.  5. 

6  Jos.  Ant.  xiii.  9:  1;  11:  3;  15:  4  ;  xv.  7:  9. 
«  Id.  War,  ii.  17:  10;  Life,  23. 


PERSECUTION  UNDER  HEROD  AGRIPPA.  221 

There  was  great  zeal  in  making  proselytes  (Matt,  xxiii. 
13) ;  and  in  this  work  the  Herods  powerfully  helped. 
Princes  of  petty  dynasties,  from  Emesa,  Pontus,  and 
Cilicia,  vassals  of  the  Romans,  became  Jews,  in  order 
to  marry  princesses  of  the  immensely  wealthy  Herodian 
house.^  A  great  number  of  converts  were  also  found  in 
Arabia  and  Ethiopia.  The  royal  families  of  Mesene 
and  Adiabene,  tributary  to  the  Parthians,  were  also 
won  over,  especially  through  the  women.^  It  was  a 
common  belief  that  good  fortune  followed  the  knowl- 
edge and  practice  of  the  Law.^  Even  without  circum- 
cision, one's  religion  was  more  or  less  modified  in  the 
direction  of  Judaism,  so  that  religion  in  Syria  was 
coming  to  be  a  form  of  monotheism.  At  Damascus,  a 
city  of  no  Israelite  antecedents,  almost  all  the  women 
had  embraced  the  Jewish  faith.*  Thus,  back  of  Phari- 
saic Judaism,  was  growing  up  a  sort  of  free  Judaism, 
of  less  firm  temper,  ignorant  of  many  secrets  of  the 
sect,^  not  only  well  inclined  and  bringing  to  it  a  friendly 
disposition,  but  having  before  it  a  much  larger  future. 
In  some  respects  the  situation  was  like  that  of  Catholi- 
cism in  our  day,  which  shows  us,  on  one  side,  haughty 
and  narrow-minded  theologians,  who  of  themselves 
would  gain  over  no  more  souls  to  Catholicism  than  the 
Pharisees  did  to  Judaism ;  and  on  the  other,  a  pious 
laity,  steeped  in  heresy  without  suspecting  it,  but  full 
of  a  touching  zeal,  rich  in  good  works  and  emotional 
piety,  painstaking  to  keep  out  of  sight,  or  plausibly 
explain  away,  the  errors  of  their  instructors. 

1  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  7:  1,  3  ;  comp.  xvi.  7:6. 

2  Ibid.  XX.  2:  4. 

«  Ihid.  XX.  2:  5,  6;  4:  1. 

*■  Jos.  War,  ii.  20  :  2. 

^  Sen.  fragm.  in  Augustine,  De  Civ.  Dei,  vi.  11. 


222  THE  APOSTLES. 

One  of  the  most  singular  examples  of  tlie  tendency 
which  drew  pious  souls  toward  Judaism  was  that  given  by 
the  royal  family  of  Adiabene,  on  the  Tigris.-^  This  house, 
Persian  in  origin  and  character,^  and  partly  educated  in 
Greek  learning,^  became  almost  wholly  Jewish,  and  even 
conspicuously  devout,  —  these  proselytes,  as  I  have  said, 
being  often  more  pious  than  native  Jews.  The  head  of 
this  house,  Izates,  embraced  Judaism  at  the  preaching 
of  one  Ananias,  a  Jewish  trader,  who  had  found  his 
way  in  his  petty  trade,  into  the  palace  of  Abennerig, 
king  of  Mesene,  where  he  converted  all  the  women  and 
became  their  spiritual  instructor,  and  through  them 
came  to  the  knowledge  of  Izates.  At  the  same  time 
his  mother  Helen  received  instruction  in  the  true  reli- 
gion from  another  Jew.  Izates,  with  the  zeal  of  a 
new  convert,  wished  to  undergo  circumcision,  but  was 
warmly  dissuaded  by  his  mother  and  Ananias,  who  con- 
vinced him  that  to  obey  the  Divine  commandments  (the 
moral  law)  was  far  more  important  than  circumcision, 
and  that  one  could  be  a  very  good  Jew  without  that 
ceremony.  Such  tolerance  was  found  among  a  small 
number  of  enlightened  spirits.  Some  time  after,  a  Jew 
of  Galilee  named  Eleazar  chanced  to  find  the  king  read- 
ing the  Pentateuch,  and  proved  to  him  by  chapter 
and  verse  that  he  could  not  keep 'the  Law  without 
circumcision,  which  Izates  ordered  to  be  performed 
on  the  spot.* 

^  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  2-4. 

^  Tac.  Ann.  xii.  13,  14.     Most  of  the  names  are  Persian. 

*  As  shown  by  the  Greek  name  "Helen."  It  is,  however,  to  be  noted 
that  Greek  does  not  appear  in  an  inscription  (Syriac  and  Syro-Chaldaic) 
on  the  tomb  of  a  princess  of  this  house,  found  and  brought  to  Paris  by 
M.  Saulcy  (Jotirn.  Asiat.,  Dec.  1865). 

*  Comp.  Bereshith  rabba,  xlvi.  51  d. 


PERSECUTION  UNDER  HEROD  AGRIPPA.  223 

The  conversion  of  Izates  was  followed  by  that  of  his 
brother  Monobazes  and  almost  all  the  family.  In  a.  d. 
44  Helen  came  to  live  at  Jerusalem,  where  she  built  a 
palace  and  family  mausoleum  (still  existing,^  and  was 
greatly  beloved  among  the  Jews  from  her  affability  and 
her  charities.  It  was  wonderfully  edifying  to  see  her, 
as  a  devout  Jewess,  attending  at  the  Temple,  consulting 
the  doctors,  reading  the  Law,  and  instructing  her  sons 
therein.  In  the  pestilence  of  44,  this  pious  lady  was 
the  good  angel  of  the  city,  making  large  purchases  of 
wheat  from  Egypt  and  of  dried  figs  from  Cyprus. 
Izates  also  sent  considerable  sums  for  distribution  to 
the  poor ;  and  the  wealth  of  Adiabene  was  in  part  dis- 
pensed at  Jerusalem,  whither  his  sons  went  to  learn 
the  Jewish  language  and  customs.  Thus  the  entire 
family  became  a  source  of  supply  to  this  population 
of  beggars.  This  family  had  acquired  something  like 
the  freedom  of  the  city,  several  of  its  members  were 
there  during  the  siege  under  Titus,^  and  others  ap- 
pear in  the  Talmudic  books  as  models  of  piety  and 
disinterestedness.^ 

It  is  thus  that  the  royal  family  of  Adiabene  has  its 
place  in  Christian  history.  Though  not  itself  Christian, 
as  some  traditions  have  made  it  out,*  it  exhibited  in 
various  ways  "  the  first-fruits  of  the  gentiles."  In 
embracing  Judaism,  it  acted  under  the  same  impulse 

1  Xow  known,  apparently,  as  "the  Kings'  tomb"  (Journ.  AsicU., 
Dec.  1865). 

2  Jos.  War,  ii.  19 :  2 ;  vi.  6 :  4. 

8  Jerus.  Talm.  Peak,  1.5  b,  where  maxims  wholly  like  those  in  the  gos- 
pels (Matt.  vi.  19-28)  are  ascribed  to  a  Monobazes ;  Bab.  Talm.  Baba 
Bathra,  11  a;  Joma,Zla;  Nazir,19b;  Shabbath,6Sb;  Sifra,  70  a;  Beresh. 
rahba,  xlvi.  51  d. 

*  i\Ioses  of  Khorene  [an  Armenian  theologian  of  the  fifth  century],  ii. 
35 ;  Orosius,  vii.  6. 


224  THE  APOSTLES. 

which  was  to  bring  the  whole  pagan  world  to  Chris- 
tianity. The  true  "  Israel  of  God  "  was  to  be  found  far 
rather  among  these  strangers,  animated  by  a  religious 
emotion  so  deeply  sincere,  than  in  the  arrogant  and 
jealous  Pharisee,  whose  religion  was  only  a  pretext  for 
enmity  and  scorn.  These  good  proselytes  were  truly 
devout,  and  were  therefore  no  fanatics,  admitting  as 
they  did  that  true  religion  may  be  found  under  the 
most  various  civil  codes,  and  thus  completely  separating 
religion  from  politics.  The  distinction  between  the 
seditious  sectaries  who  in  the  next  generation  were  to 
defend  Jerusalem  with  fury,  and  those  peaceful  devotees 
who  were  to  "  flee  to  the  mountains  "  (Luke  xxi.  21)  was 
widening  every  day. 

We  see,  at  all  events,  that  proselytism  was  coming  to 
be  an  urgent  question  for  both  Judaism  and  Christianity, 
in  much  the  same  way.  Both  felt  the  same  need  of 
widening  the  door  of  entrance.  To  those  who  took  this 
point  of  view  circumcision  was  a  practice  useless  or  even 
harmful ;  the  Mosaic  observances  were  simply  a  desig- 
nation of  descent,  of  value  only  to  the  sons  of  Abraham. 
Before  it  could  become  a  universal  faith,  Judaism  must 
be  simply  a  form  of  theism,  requiring  only  the  duties 
of  natural  religion.  Herein  was  a  sublime  mission  to 
fulfil ;  and  this  view  was  accepted  with  clear  intelli- 
gence, early  in  the  first  century,  by  a  party  among  the 
Jews  themselves.  On  the  one  hand,  Judaism  was  held 
to  be  one  of  the  numberless  national  cults  ^  which  then 
filled  the  world ;  and  the  reverence  paid  to  it  was  due 
only  to  its  founders  having  worshipped  God  in  that  way. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  was  held  to  be  the  one  absolute 

^  Ta  TTorpia  tdrj  is  the  expression  Josephus  uses  in  defending  the  posi- 
tion of  the  Jews  in  the  pagan  world. 


PERSECUTION  UNDER  HEROD  AGRIPPA.  225 

religion,  made  for  all  and  destined  to  be  adopted  by  all. 
That  frightful  outburst  of  fanaticism  which  got  the 
upperhand  in  Judaea  and  brought  about  the  war  of  ex- 
termination, cut  that  future  short.  Christianity  then 
took  in  hand  the  task  which  the  Synagogue  had  failed 
to  accomplish.  Putting  aside  all  questions  of  ritual,  it 
continued  the  purely  monotheist  propaganda  which  Ju- 
daism had  abandoned.  What  had  made  the  success  of 
Judaism  among  the  women  of  Damascus,  in  the  palace 
of  Abennerig,  with  the  princess  Helen  and  so  many 
pious  proselytes,  made  the  strength  of  Christianity 
throughout  the  world.  In  this  sense,  the  true  glory  is 
blended  with  that  of  the  other,  and  indistinguishable 
from  it.  A  generation  of  fanatics  had  deprived  Judaism 
of  its  just  reward,  and  prevented  it  from  gathering  the 
harvest  for  which  it  had  sown  the  seed. 


15 


CHAPTER   XV. 

SIMON  OP  GITTON   (siMON  MAGUS).  —  A.  D.  45. 

Christianity  has  now  really  gained  a  firm  foothold  in 
the  world.  In  the  history  of  a  religion  only  its  earliest 
years  are  seriously  critical.  When  the  faith  has  once 
withstood  the  hard  trials  which  lie  in  wait  for  every 
new  undertaking,  its  future  is  assured.  The  founders 
of  Christianity  were  more  capable  than  the  other  re- 
ligious leaders  of  the  time,  —  Essenes,  Baptists,  or  par- 
tisans of  Judas  the  Gaulonite,  —  who  did  not  part  from 
the  Jewish  world,  and  perished  with  it ;  and,  with  a 
rare  certainty  of  aim,  they  very  early  threw  themselves 
into  the  great  world,  taking  their  part  and  lot  in  it. 
"We  should  not  wonder  at  the  slight  mention  we  find 
of  the  Christians  in  Josephus,  the  Talmud,  or  the  Greek 
and  Latin  writers.  Josephus  has  come  to  us  through 
Christian  copyists,  who  suppressed  everything  discredit- 
able to  their  own  doctrine ;  but  we  may  take  for  granted 
that  he  spoke  more  at  length  of  Jesus  and  the  Christians 
than  his  writings  in  their  present  form  give  evidence. 
The  Talmud  (of  which  no  manuscript  copy  has  come 
down)  likewise  underwent,  during  the  Middle  Age  and  at 
the  time  of  its  first  publication,  much  abridgment  and 
alteration  ;  for  Christian  censorship  was  severely  prac- 
tised upon  the  text,  and  numbers  of  wretched  Jews  were 
burned  for  having  in  their  possession  a  book  containing 
passages  deemed  blasphemous.     It  is  no  wonder  that 


SIMON  OF  GITTON.  227 

Greek  and  Latin  writers  spent  little  thought  upon  a 
movement  which  they  could  noway  comprehend,  and 
which  went  on  in  a  little  district  quite  shut  out  from 
their  sight.  To  their  eyes  Christianity  was  wholly 
hidden  in  the  obscure  depth  of  Judaism ;  what  use  in 
busying  themselves  with  a  family  quarrel  in  the  bosom 
of  an  abject  people  ?  The  two  or  three  passages  in 
which  Tacitus  and  Suetonius  speak  of  the  Christians 
show  that  the  new  sect,  though  mostly  outside  the  hori- 
zon visible  to  the  great  public,  was  yet  a  fact  of  some 
importance ;  indeed,  through  one  or  two  chance  breaks 
in  the  mist  of  general  inattention  we  have  glimpses  of 
it  quite  distinctly  traced. 

Another  circumstance  has  helped  to  blur  the  outline 
of  Christianity  in  the  story  of  the  Jewish  world  during 
the  first  Christian  century  :  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an 
isolated  event.  At  the  time  w^e  have  now  reached 
Philo  had  just  finished  a  life  wholly  devoted  to  the  love 
of  good.  The  sect  of  Judas  the  Gaulonite  still  survived. 
The  successors  of  this  agitator  in  his  scheme  were  his 
sons  James,  Simon,  and  Menahem  ;  of  whom  James  and 
Simon  were  crucified  by  order  of  the  renegade  adminis- 
trator Tiberius  Alexander ;  ^  while  Menahem  was  re- 
served to  play  an  important  part  in  the  final  tragedy  of 
his  nation.^  Tn  the  year  44  there  arose  an  enthusiast 
named  Theudas,^  who  announced  an  impending  deliver- 
ance, called  on  crowds  to  follow  him  into  the  desert,  and 
promised  that  he  would  lead  them,  like  another  Joshua, 
across  the  Jordan  dry-shod  :  this  passage,  he  said,  would 

*  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  5:  2. 
2  Id.  War,\\.  17:  8-10;  Life,  5. 

8  How  nearly  both  these  movements  came  in  touch  with  Christianitj 
we  see  in  Acts  v.  36,  37. 


228  THE  APOSTLES. 

be  the  true  baptism,  which  should  initiate  each  of  his 
followers  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  More  than  four 
hundred  followed  him ;  but  being  pursued  by  cavalry 
sent  against  him  by  Cuspius  Fadus,  he  was  killed,  and 
his  troops  were  scattered.^  A  few  years  before,  all  Sa- 
maria was  stirred  by  the  voice  of  an  enthusiast  who 
claimed  to  have  had  a  revelation  of  the  spot  on  Gerizim 
where  Moses  had  hidden  the  sacred  vessels  for  worship ; 
but  the  movement  was  put  down  with  great  severity  by 
Pilate.^  For  Jerusalem  the  day  of  peace  was  past.  After 
the  coming  of  Ventidius  Cumanus  (in  48),  there  was  no 
suspension  of  troubles.  Excitement  went  so  far  that 
life  there  became  intolerable ;  an  explosion  might  hap- 
pen from  the  slightest  cause.^  There  was  felt  a  strange 
disturbance,  a  sort  of  mysterious  trouble.  Impostors 
abounded  everywhere.*  The  awful  scourge  of  Zealots 
{kendim)  or  Assassins  (sicarii)  began  to  be  felt.  Wretches 
armed  with  daggers  would  make  their  way  into  a  crowd, 
strike  down  their  victims,  and  then  be  the  first  to  cry 
murder.  Not  a  day  would  pass  without  the  rumour  of 
some  such  act  of  violence.  Extreme  terror  spread 
abroad.  Josephus  speaks  of  the  crimes  of  Zealots  as 
deeds  of  mere  depravity ;  ^  but,  unquestionably,  fanati- 
cism had  a  share  in  them.^  It  was  to  defend  the  Law 
that  these  wretches  took  the  dagger.  If  any  one  failed, 
in  their  eyes,  to  meet  every  prescription  of  the  Law,  his 
sentence  was  pronounced  and  executed  on  the  spot.     It 

^  Jos.  Aiit.  XX.  5:  1 ;  Acts  v.  36  (note  the  anachronism). 

2  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  4 :  1,2. 

8  Ibid.  XX.  5 :  3,  4 ;   War,  ii.  12 :  1,  2;  Tac.  Ann.  xii.  54. 

*  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  8  :  5. 

^  Ibid.  XX.  5  :  8 ;  War,  ii.  13:  3. 

•  Id.  War,  vii.  8 :  1;  Alishna,  Sanhedrin,  ix.  6. 


SIMON  OF  GITTON. 


229 


was  thus  these  men  thought  to  perform  the  deed  of 
highest  merit,  and  most  pleasing  to  God. 

Like  schemes  to  those  of  Theudas  were  everywhere 
revived.  Persons  claiming  to  be  inspired  stirred  up  the 
people  and  drew  them  into  the  desert,  promising  to 
show  them  by  manifest  signs  that  God  would  deliver 
them.  Dupes  of  these  agitators,  by  the  thousand,  were 
slaughtered  by  the  Roman  authorities.^  An  Egyptian 
Jew,  who  came  to  Jerusalem  in  56,  had  the  skill,  by 
his  tricks,  to  draw  away  after  him  thirty  thousand 
followers,  four  thousand  of  them  armed  with  swords. 
From  the  desert  he  proposed  to  lead  them  upon  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  that  from  there  they  might  see  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem  fall  at  his  sole  word.  Felix,  then 
procurator,  marched  against  him  and  dispersed  his 
troop ;  when  he  ran  away,  and  never  reappeared.^ 
But  as  ill  follows  ill  in  a  diseased  body,  it  was  not 
long  before  various  companies  made  up  of  magicians 
and  robbers  openly  led  on  the  people  to  revolt  afresh 
against  the  Romans,  threatening  with  death  those  who 
continued  obedient.  With  this  pretext,  they  slew  the 
rich,  plundered  their  goods,  burned  the  towns,  and  filled 
all  Judaea  with  the  traces  of  their  fury.^  Dread  of  a 
frightful  war  was  in  the  air.  A  sort  of  dizziness  pre- 
vailed on  every  side,  and  kept  men's  minds  in  a  state 
not  far  from  frenzy. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  Theudas  may  have  enter- 
tained in  all  this  some  thought  of  a  career  like  that  of 
Jesus  and  John  the  Baptist.  Such  a  thought  is,  at  any 
rate,  to  be  clearly  traced  in  Simon  of  Gitton  [better 

1  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  8  :  6,  10  ;   War,  ii.  13  :  4. 

2  ja.  Ant.  XX.  8 :  6;  War,  ii.  13 :  5;  Acts  xxi.  88. 
8  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  8  :  6 ;   War,  ii.  13  :  6. 


230  THE  APOSTLES. 

known  as  Simon  Magus],  if  the  Christian  traditions  of 
him  deserve  a  hearing.  We  have  already  (chap,  ix.) 
met  him  in  communication  with  the  apostle  on  occasion 
of  Philip's  first  mission  in  Samaria.  This  man  became 
notorious  in  the  time  of  Claudius.^  His  miracles  were 
held  to  be  established  facts,  and  every  one  in  Samaria 
regarded  him  as  a  man  inspired  (Acts  viii.  10). 

Furthermore,  Simon's  miracles  were  not  the  only 
ground  of  his  reputation.  There  was  besides,  it  seems, 
a  doctrine,  of  which  we  cannot  easily  ju(3ge :  a  work 
said  to  be  his,  but  known  to  us  only  in  fragments, 
called  "  the  great  Declaration  "  (exposition),  was  prob- 
ably a  very  qualified  expression  of  his  ideas.  It  is 
probably  not  wholly  supposititious,  however,  consider- 
ing the  harmony  of  the  system  it  indicates  with  what 
little  we  learn  from  Acts  of  Simon's  doctrine  of  "divine 
powers."  During  his  stay  at  Alexandria,^  he  seems  to 
have  derived  from  his  reading  in  Greek  philosophy  an 
eclectic  system  of  theosophy  and  allegorical  exegesis 
like  that  of  Philo,  not  wholly  without  claim  to  respect. 
Sometimes  it  reminds  us  of  the  Jewish  Kabbah,  some- 
times of  the  pantheistic  theories  of  Indian  philosophy  ; 
in  parts,  it  seems  to  bear  the  stamp  of  buddhism  and 
parsism.^  Above  all  existences  is  "  He  who  is  and  was 
and  will  be,"*  i.  e.,  the   Samaritan  Jahveh,  understood 

1  Justin,  Apol.  i.  26,  56.  It  is  singular  that  Josephus,  so  well  informed 
as  to  matters  in  Samaria,  says  nothing  of  him. 

2  Clementine  Homilies,  ii.  22,  24. 

«  Justin,  Ap.  i.  26,  56;  ii.  15;  Tryph.  120;  Iren.  i.23:2,  5;  27:4;  ii. 
prmf. :  Clem.  horn.  i.  15;  ii.  22,  25;  Recogn.  i.  72;  ii.  7 ;  iii.  47 ;  PUlos. 
iv.  7  ;  vi.  1 ;  X.  4  ;  Epiph.  xxi. ;  Orig.  C.  Cels.  v.  62 ;  vi.  11 ;  Tert.  De  an. 
34 ;  Const,  apost.  vi.  16  ;  Jer.  In  Matt.  xxiv.  5 ;  Theod.  hcer.  fab.  i.  1.  The 
best  idea  of  the  "  Great  Declaration  "  is  had  from  citations  in  the  Philos. 
(Hippolytus),  not  from  the  travesties  found  in  other  Church  fathers. 

*  Philosophumena,  iv.  7;  vi.  1,  9,  12,  13,  17,  18;  comp.  Rev.  i.  4,  8; 
iv.  8;  xi.  17. 


SIMON  OF  GITTON.  231 

from  its  etymological  meaning  as  the  One  Eternal,  self- 
created,  self-developed,  self-seeking,  and  self-finding,  as 
Father,  Mother,  Sister,  Wife,  Son.^  In  the  bosom  of 
this  Infinite  all  things  potentially  exist ;  all  passes  into 
act  and  actuality  through  human  consciousness,  reason, 
language,  and  science.  The  universe  is  explained  as  a 
hierarchy  of  abstract  principles,  like  the  Gnostic  mons 
and  the  mystic  tree  {sephiroth)  of  the  Kabbala ;  or  else 
as  an  angelic  hierarchy  borrowed  from  the  Persian  doc- 
trine. Sometimes  these  abstractions  are  given  out  as 
deductions  from  physical  or  physiological  facts.  Again, 
the  "  divine  powers,"  considered  separately,  are  realized 
in  successive  incarnations,  feminine  or  masculine,  the 
aim  of  all  being  the  deliverance  of  creatures  confined 
in  the  bonds  of  matter.  The  first  of  these  is  called, 
distinctively,  "the  Great  Power,"  which  is  the  universal 
Providence,  the  intelligence  of  this  sphere.^  This  be- 
ing masculine,  Simon  was  regarded  as  its  incarnation. 
*'  The  Great  Thought "  is  its  feminine  partner,  to  which 
Simon  (or  the  system  that  represents  him),  in  his  habit 
of  symbol  and  allegory,  gave  the  name  Helena,  to  sig- 
nify that  it  is  everywhere  sought,  always  the  source  of 
contention,  taking  vengeance  on  its  foes  by  making  them 
blind  [like  the  fabled  poet  Stesichorus,  of  Himera], 
until  they  consent  to  chant  a  recantation  {palinode),  a 
strange  conceit,  ill  understood  or  purposely  travestied 
by  the  Church  Fathers,  who  distorted  it  in  the  most 
childish  tales.  The  writer  of  this  scheme,  has,  at  all 
events,  a  very  remarkable  acquaintance  with  Greek 
literature.  He  maintained  that,  when  rightly  under- 
stood, the  pagan  writings  are  enough  for  the  knowledge 

^  Philosophttmena,  vi.  1 :  17. 

3  Acts  viii.  10  ;  Philos.  vi.  1: 18;  Clem.  horn.  ii.  22. 


232  THE  APOSTLES. 

of  all  truth.  His  wide  eclecticism  embraced  all  the 
revelations,  aiming  to  fuse  them  all  into  a  single 
system. 

The  substance  of  this  system  is  near  akin  to  that  of 
Valentinus,  and  to  the  doctrine  of  Divine  Persons  found 
in  Philo,  the  Fourth  Gospel,  and  the  Targums.^  The 
Mdathronos  whom  the  Jews  set  beside  the  Deity,  almost 
in  his  very  bosom,  is  very  like  this  "  Great  Power."  In 
the  Samaritan  theology  we  find  a  Great  Angel,  chief 
of  the  angels,  and  various  "  manifestations,"  or  '•'  divine 
virtues,"  ^  like  those  of  the  Jewish  Kahhala.  In  short, 
Simon  of  Gitton  appears  to  us  as  a  sort  of  theosophist, 
in  the  same  group  with  Philo  and  the  Cabbalists.  He 
may,  for  once,  have  made  some  approach  to  Christian- 
ity, but  surely  never  adopted  it. 

It  is  hard  to  decide  whether  he  borrowed  anything 
from  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  If  the  "  Declaration "  is 
in  any  sense  his,  we  must  admit  that  at  some  points  he 
anticipated  Christian  ideas,  and  at  others  has  borrowed 
broadly  from  them.^  He  seems  to  have  schemed  an 
eclecticism  like  that  afterwards  put  forth  by  Mahomet, 
assuming  the  divine  mission  of  John  and  Jesus  as  the 
groundwork  of  his  claims,  and  asserting  some  mystical 
relation  with  them.  He  is  said  to  have  announced 
that  he,  Simon,  had  appeared  to  the  Samaritans  as  the 
Father,  to  the  Jews  in  the  visible  crucifixion  of  the 
Son,  and  to  the  gentiles  in  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit.* 
He  thus,  it  may  seem,  prepared  the  way  for  the  doc- 

1  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  pp.  260-263. 

^  Chron.  Samar.  c.  10;  Reland,  De  Samar.  §  7;  Gesenius,  Comment.  21. 

'  In  the  passage  given  in  Philosopk.  vi.  1 :  16  is  a  quotation  from  the 
Synoptic  Gospels  appearing  (perhaps  through  negligence)  to  be  from  the 
*'  Declaration." 

*  Iran.  i.  23 :  3  ;  PMlos.  ii.  23,  24;  vi.  1  :  19. 


SIMON  OF  GITTON.  233 

trine  of  the  Docetse,  saying  that  he  had  indeed  suffered 
in  Judsea  in  the  person  of  Jesus,  but  the  suffering  was 
only  in  appearance.^  His  claim  to  be  the  very  Deity, 
as  an  object  of  worship,  was  probably  exaggerated  by 
the  Christians,  whose  only  motive  was  to  inspire  hatred 
against  him. 

We  see,  further,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  "  Declara- 
tion "  is  that  of  almost  all  the  Gnostic  writings.  If 
Simon  did  in  fact  teach  these  theories,  he  is  rightly 
named  by  the  Church  Fathers  the  founder  of  Gnosti- 
cism.^ The  authorship  of  the  "Declaration,"  I  think 
doubtful :  it  is,  in  my  view,  to  the  real  doctrine  of 
Simon  what  the  Fourth  Gospel  is  to  that  of  Jesus, 
belonging  to  the  early  years  of  the  second  century, 
when  the  theosophic  views  of  the  Logos  gained  definite 
ascendency.  What  we  find  in  germ  in  the  Christian 
beliefs  of  A.  d.  60  —  to  judge  from  Colossians  (i.  15-20), 
which  may  probably  have  been  written  by  Paul  —  may 
have  been  known  to  Simon,  whose  career  we  may,  if 
we  will,  extend  to  the  end  of  the  century. 

In  this  enigmatical  person  we  seem,  then,  to  find  a 
sort  of  plagiarist  from  Christianity.  Samaritans  ap- 
pear to  have  been  very  apt  at  imitation.^  Just  as  they 
had  always  offered  a  counterpart  of  Jerusalemitic  Ju- 
daism, so,  too,  they  had  their  imitated  Christianity, 
their  gnosis,  their  theosophic  speculations,  and  their 
Cabbala.  But  was  Simon  an  imitator  deserving  of 
respect,  who  only  failed  of  success ;  or  was  he  an  un- 
scrupulous juggler,  a  humbug,*  trading  off,  for  popular 

^  Clem.  liom.  ii.  22 ;  Recogn.  ii.  14. 

2  Iren.  ii.  iii.  (prcef.).  '  Epiphan.  80  : 1. 

*  As  we  might  incline  to  think,  from  the  swift  declension  of  his  sect 
into  a  school  of  tricksters,  and  a  manufacture  of  philters  and  incanta- 
tions (see  Philos.  vi.  1 :  20  j  Tert.  De  anima,  57). 


J34  THE  APOSTLES. 

repute,  a  patchwork  of  doctrine  made  of  picked-up 
rags  ?  In  the  view  of  history  he  thus  holds  the  falsest 
of  positions,  walking  on  a  tight-rope,  where  to  hesitate 
is  to  fall ;  where  there  is  no  middle  ground  between  a 
ridiculous  tumble  and  a  miracle  of  success. 

We  shall,  at  a  later  date,  meet  Simon  again,  and 
inquire  into  the  truth  of  the  legends  of  his  stay  at 
Rome.  What  we  know  is  that  his  sect  lasted  into  the 
third  century,*  having  churches  at  Antioch  and  perhaps 
at  Rome  ;  that  Menander,  of  Capharetsea,  and  Cleobius^ 
continued  his  doctrine,  or  imitated  his  career  as  won- 
der-worker, with  some  hint  of  Jesus  and  his  apostles. 
Simon  and  his  disciples  had  great  repute  among  those 
of  like  beliefs.  Sects  like  this,  —  that  of  Dositheus  is 
the  most  noted,  —  side  by  side  with  Christianity  and 
more  or  less  touched  with  gnosticism,  appear  among  the 
Samaritans  until  their  quasi-destruction  by  Justinian. 
This  petty  religion  was  destined  to  take  an  impression 
from  everything  that  was  going  on  about  it,  without, 
producing  anything  quite  original. 

The  memory  of  Simon  Magus  remained  an  abomina- 
tion among  the  Christians.  His  processes,  so  much 
like  theirs,  exasperated  them.  The  most  unpardonable 
of  crimes,  in  their  eyes,  was  to  have  vied  in  success 
with  the  apostles.  His  prodigies,  and  those  of  his  fol- 
lowers, were  held  to  be  the  work  of  the  devil,  and  the 
Samaritan  theosophist  was  stigmatised  as  a  magician 
{Magus)^  a  name  of  horror  to  the  faithful.     The  entire 

1  Philos.  vi.  1:20;  Origen,  C.  Celsum,  i.  57;  vi.  11. 

2  Euseb.  iv.  22;  Clem.  Alex.  Strom,  vii.  17;  Const,  apost.  vi.  8:16; 
18 : 1;  Just.  Apol.  i.  26,  56;  Iren.  i.  23:5;  Philos.  vii.  28;  Epiph.  22,  23; 
Theod.  har.  sab.  i.  1,  2;  Tert.  Deprceser.  46 ;  De  anima,  50. 

8  Acts  viii.  9 ;  Iren.  i.  23  : 1. 


SIMON  OF  GITTON.  235 

Cliristian  legend  of  Simon  is  stamped  with  bitter  hate. 
He  was  charged  with  the  Quietist  heresy,  and  with  the 
extravagances  commonly  associated  with  it.^  He  was 
considered  the  father  of  every  error,  the  first  heresi- 
arch.  It  was  a  joy  to  tell  of  his  ludicrous  misadven- 
tures, and  his  overthrow  by  the  apostle  Peter.^  Even 
his  approach  to  Christianity  was  ascribed  to  the  vilest 
motives.  His  name  so  haunted  men  that  they  blunder- 
ingly read  it  on  pillars  ^  where  it  was  not  written.  His 
style  of  symbolism  was  interpreted  in  the  absurdest  fash- 
ion :  "  Helena,"  which  name  he  identified  with  "  the  first 
intelligence,"  became  a  courtesan  whom  he  had  bought 
at  the  famous  slave-market  in  Tyre.*  His  name  be- 
came as  hateful  as  that  of  Judas,  and  was  made  the 
equivalent  of  anti-apostle,^  the  worst  of  insults,  myste- 
riously designating  an  impostor  by  profession,^  an  enemy 
of  the  truth.  He  was  the  first  enemy  of  Christianity, 
or  the  first  whom  Christianity  so  regarded.  Neither 
pious   fraud   nor   defamatory   scandal   was   spared   to 

1  Philos.  vi.  1  :  19,  20.  These  perversities  were  ascribed  only  to  his 
followers ;  but,  if  the  school  was  open  to  the  charge,  some  of  it  must  fall 
upon  the  master. 

2  See  "  Antichrist,"  passim. 

8  Justin.  (Apol.  i.  26)  mentions  an  inscription  simoni  •  deo  •  saxcto 
as  existing  on  an  island  in  the  Tiber,  which  also  has  later  Christian  men- 
tion. This  was  a  Latin  inscription  to  a  Sabine  deity:  semoni  •  deo  • 
BANCO,  a  copy  of  which  (now  in  the  Vatican)  was  found  in  the  island 
St.  Bartholomew  in  the  time  of  Gregory  XIII.  (see  Baronius,  an.  44; 
Orelli,  inscr.  1860).  There  was  here  a  college  of  bidentales  in  honour  of 
Semo  Sancus,  containing  several  like  inscriptions  (Orelli,  1861 ;  Momm- 
sen,  inscr.  Neap.  6770).  Comp.  Orelli,  1859,  1862;  Henzen,  6999;  Ma- 
billon,  Mus.  Ital.  i.  84.     (See  Corp.  inscr.  Lat.  542.) 

*  For  knowledge  of  this  misconstruction  we  are  indebted  to  the  dis- 
covery of  the  Philosophumena  (see  vi.  1 :  19),  which  gives  fragments  of  the 
"  Declaration  "  before  referred  to. 

^  Clem.  hnm.  xvii. 

6  Thus  Paul,  by  the  malignant  writer  of  the  Clementines. 


236  THE  APOSTLES. 

blacken  him.-^  Still,  no  opposing  documents  are  extant 
to  serve  for  an  exculpatory  criticism.  All  that  can  be 
done  is  to  exhibit  the  complexion  of  the  tradition,  and 
the  motive  of  the  calumny.  At  least,  the  critic  should 
avoid  charging  against  the  memory  of  the  Samaritan 
theurgist  a  parallelism  which  may  be  purely  accidental. 
The  historian  Josephus  ^  relates  that  a  Jewish  magician 
named  Simon,  born  in  Cyprus,  played  the  part  of  go- 
between  {7rpo^€V7)T7J<;)  for  the  procurator  Felix.  The 
circumstances  narrated  do  not  fit  the  case  of  Simon 
of  Gitton  well  enough  for  us  to  hold  him  responsible 
for  the  acts  of  one  who  only  happened  to  have  the 
same  name  with  him  and  thousands  of  others,  and 
miraculous  pretensions  which  were  unhappily  shared 
by  multitudes  of  his  contemporaries. 

1  The  account  in  the  "  Acts  "  is  not  thus  hostile :  only  one  mean 
thing  is  recorded  of  him,  and  of  this  he  may  have  repented  (viii.  24). 
Perhaps  Simon  was  still  living  when  this  account  was  written. 

2  Ant.  XX.  7 : 1. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

GENERAL   COURSE   OF   CHRISTIAN   MISSIONS.  —  A.  D.  45. 

Barnabas,  as  we  have  seen,  went  up  from  Antioch  to 
carry  to  the  disciples  in  Jerusalem  the  gifts  of  their 
Syrian  brethren,  and  was  present  during  some  of  the 
commotion  stirred  among  them  by  the  persecution  of 
Herod  Agrippa  (Acts  xii.  1,  25).  We  will  now  return 
with  him  to  Antioch,  where  all  the  constructive  activity 
of  the  body  seems  just  now  to  be  concentrated. 

With  Barnabas  there  came  a  zealous  fellow-labourer, 
his  cousin  John  Mark,  closely  attached  to  Peter  as  his 
disciple,  and  son  of  that  Mary  whose  house  was  Peter's 
favourite  abode.  When  Barnabas  took  with  him  this 
new  fellow-labourer,  he  already  had  in  mind,  doubtless, 
the  great  undertaking  in  which  he  was  to  employ  his 
aid.  It  may  be  that  even  now  he  began  to  foresee  the 
divisions  of  opinion  which  this  work  was  sure  to  rouse, 
and  was  glad  to  have  with  him  an  assistant,  known 
to  be  the  right-hand  man  of  Peter,  —  that  one  of  the 
apostles  who  held  chief  authority  in  general  matters. 

This  undertaking  was  nothing  less  than  a  series  of 
extended  missions,  which  were  to  set  forth  from  Antioch, 
having  for  its  ultimate  aim  the  conversion  of  the  whole 
world.  Like  every  great  resolution  adopted  in  the 
Church,  this  was  ascribed  to  the  direct  inspiration  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  There  was  firm  belief  in  a  special 
vocation,  a  supernatural  choice,  assumed  to  have  been 


238  THE  APOSTLES. 

communicated  to  the  church  at  Antioch  while  it  fasted 
and  prayed.  Some  one  of  the  "prophets"  of  this 
church,  Menahem  or  Lucius,  in  one  of  his  fits  of 
"speaking  with  tongues,"  may  perhaps  have  uttered 
words  from  which  it  was  inferred  that  Paul  and  Bar- 
nabas were  predestined  to  this  mission  (Acts  xiii.  2). 
Paul,  on  his  part,  was  convinced  that  God  had  chosen 
him,  from  the  moment  of  his  birth,  for  the  work  to 
which  his  whole  life  was  henceforth  to  be  devoted.^ 

These  two  took  with  them  as  assistant,  to  aid  in 
the  material  cares  of  their  enterprise,  the  same  John 
Mark,  whom  Barnabas  had  brought  with  him  from 
Jerusalem  (Acts  xiii.  5).  When  all  was  ready,  there 
were  fastings  and  prayers ;  hands  were  laid  upon  the 
heads  of  the  two  envoys,  in  token  of  a  mission  intrusted 
to  them  by  the  church  itself ;  ^  the  grace  of  God  was 
invoked  upon  them,  and  they  set  forth.^  In  what 
direction  should  they  go  ?  To  what  part  of  the  world 
should  they  carry  their  gospel  ?  This  is  the  question 
now  to  be  considered. 

All  the  first  great  Christian  missions  were  directed 
toward  the  West ;  in  other  words,  the  Roman  Empire 
made  their  scene  and  defined  their  limits.  The  Par- 
thian realm  —  excepting  some  portions  of  its  subject 
territory  lying  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris 
—  received  no  Christian  missions  in  the  first  century, 

1  Gal.  i.  15,  16;  Acts  xxii.  15,  21;  xxvi.  17,  18;  1  Cor.  i.  1;  Rom.  i.  1, 
5 ;  XV.  15-19. 

2  Paul  himself  does  not  speak  of  such  an  ordination  or  consecration: 
he  holds  his  commission  direct  from  Jesus,  and  does  not  regard  himself 
as  the  envoy  of  the  church  of  Antioch,  any  more  than  that  of  Jerusalem. 
The  ceremonial  may  have  been  introduced  by  the  writer,  as  a  partisan 
of  the  hierarchy  and  of  church  power  (see  Introd.  p.  14). 

'  Acts  xiii.  3 ;  xiv.  25. 


GENERAL   COURSE  OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.     239 

—  "Babylon,"  in  1  Peter,  v.  13,  designating  Rome. 
Toward  the  East  the  Tigris  made  a  boundary  which 
Christianity  never  passed  till  the  time  of  the  Sassanids 
(the  Persian  dynasty  ruling  from  the  third  to  the 
seventh  century).  The  two  chief  factors  determining 
this  all-important  decision  were  the  Empire  itself  and 
the  Mediterranean  Sea. 

The  Mediterranean  had  been  for  a  thousand  years 
the  highway  on  which  all  civilisations  and  all  ideas 
had  met  and  mingled.  Delivered  by  the  Romans 
from  piracy,  it  had  become  a  matchless  highway  of 
intercommunication.  Travel  along  its  shores  had  been 
rendered  very  easy  by  a  vast  system  of  coastwise 
transportation.  Several  things  made  the  map  of  the 
Roman  Empire  the  very  map  of  territories  reserved  for 
Christian  missions,  and  foreordained  to  become  Chris- 
tian ;  namely,  the  comparative  security  of  the  great 
imperial  roads,  the  security  guarantied  by  public  au- 
thorities, the  diffusion  of  Jews  everywhere  along  the 
coast,  the  general  use  of  the  Greek  tongue  in  all  the 
eastern  portion,  and  the  one  type  of  civilisation  first 
created  by  the  Greeks  and  then  adopted  by  the  Romans. 
The  Roman  "circle  of  the  lands"  {orhis  terrm'um)  be- 
came in  due  time  "the  Christian  circle;"  thus  we 
may  say  that  the  founders  of  the  Empire  were  also 
the  founders  of  the  Christian  Empire  (monarchia),  at 
least  that  they  traced  its  boundaries.  Every  province 
conquered  by  the  Roman  Empire  was  a  province  con- 
quered for  Christianity.  Suppose  the  apostles  to  have 
been  confronted  by  an  Asia  Minor,  a  Greece,  and  an 
Italy,  cut  up  into  a  hundred  petty  republics ;  a  Gaul, 
Spain,  Africa,  or  Egypt,  under  the  control  of  their  old 
national  institutions,  we  cannot  even  imagine  such  a 


240  THE  APOSTLES. 

thing  as  their  success,  or  even  as  their  undertaking  the 
task  at  all.  The  unity  of  the  Empire  was  the  ante- 
cedent condition  of  all  that  grand  system  of  religious 
proselytism,  setting  itself  above  all  nationalities.  This 
the  Empire  clearly  saw  in  the  fourth  century,  where- 
upon it  became  Christian ;  it  saw  that  Christianity 
was  the  religion  of  which  it  was  itself  the  unconscious 
creator,  —  a  religion  bounded  by  its  own  frontiers,  inti- 
mately one  with  it,  and  capable  of  giving  it  a  second 
life.  The  Church,  again,  became  wholly  Roman,  and 
has  survived  to  this  day  as  a  relic  of  the  Empire.  One 
might  have  said  to  Paul  that  Claudius  was  the  first  of 
his  co-workers ;  might  have  said  to  Claudius  that  this 
poor  Jew,  setting  out  from  Antioch,  would  found  the 
solidest  part  of  the  imperial  structure.  Both  would 
have  been  very  much  astonished,  but  both  would  have 
heard  the  truth. 

Of  all  countries  foreign  to  Judaea,  Syria  was  natu- 
rally the  first  where  Christianity  got  established.  This 
was  inevitable,  from  its  near  neighbourhood  to  Pales- 
tine, and  from  the  great  number  of  Jews  it  already 
contained.^  A  few  years  later,  Cyprus,  Asia  Minor, 
Macedonia,  Greece,  and  Italy  were  visited  in  turn  by 
apostolic  envoys.  Southern  Gaul,  Spain,  the  sea  coast 
of  North  Africa,  though  early  evangelised,  yet  form  a 
later  stage  in  the  Christian  substructure. 

So  too  with  Egypt,  which  scarcely  appears  at  all  in 
the  apostolic  history;  nay,  the  Christian  missionaries 
seem  systematically  to  have  turned  their  back  upon  it. 
Egypt,  which  from  and  after  the  third  century  became 
the  theatre  of  events  so  important  in  religious  history, 
was  at  first  very  backward  regarding  Christianity.     The 

»  Jos.  War^  ii.  20 :  2 ;  vii.  3 :  3. 


GENERAL   COURSE   OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      241 

only  Christian  teacher  from  the  school  of  Alexandria 
was  ApoUos ;  and  he  had  learned  Christianity  in  his 
travels.^  The  cause  of  this  singular  circumstance  is 
to  be  found  in  the  slight  communication  that  existed 
between  the  Egyptian  Jews  and  those  of  Palestine ; 
above  all,  in  the  fact  that  Judaism  in  Egypt  had  in 
a  measure  been  developed  independently.  Egypt  had 
Philo  and  the  Therapeutse  :  these  made  a  sort  of 
native  Christianity,^  which,  so  to  speak,  dispensed  it 
from  lending  an  attentive  ear  to  the  other.  Pagan 
Egypt,  again,  had  religious  institutions  with  far  greater 
power  of  resistance  than  those  of  the  Greek  and  Roman 
Paganism ;  its  religion  was  still  in  full  vigour ;  almost 
at  this  very  time  were  building  the  vast  temples  of 
Esneh  and  Ombos;  while  under  the  hope  of  finding 
one  more  Ptolemy,  a  national  Messiah,  in  the  boy 
Csesarion,  the  sanctuaries  of  Denderah  and  Hermonthis 
were  rising  from  the  earth,  which  we  might  compare 
with  the  finest  works  of  the  Pharaohs.  Everywhere 
Christianity  planted  itself  among  the  ruins  of  national 
ambitions  and  local  worships.  In  Egypt,  too,  the  bond- 
age of  the  soul  blighted  the  aspirations  which  elsewhere 
opened  to  Christianity  the  way  of  such  swift  success. 

The  first  appearing  of  Christianity  was,  as  it  were,  a 
flash  of  light  from  Syria,  which  almost  at  the  same 
moment  illumined  the  three  great  peninsulas  of  Asia 
Minor,  Greece,  and  Italy,  and  was  soon  followed  by  a 
second  gleam,  which  included  almost  the  entire  Medi- 
terranean coast.  The  track  of  the  ships  that  bore  the 
apostolic  mission  is  always  nearly  the  same,  seeming 
to  follow  the  wake  of  a  former  expedition,  which  was, 
in  fact,  the  Jewish  emigration.     Just  as  a  contagion, 

1  Acts  xviii.  24-28.  ^  In  Philo,  De  vita  contemplativa,  etc. 

IG 


242  THE  APOSTLES. 

starting  from  a  point  in  the  depth  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, shows  itself  all  at  once,  through  some  hidden 
communication,  at  a  variety  of  points  along  the  shore, 
so  Christianity  had  its  points  of  arrival  marked  out,  so 
to  speak,  beforehand,  —  these  being  mostly  designated 
by  Jewish  colonies.  A  church  was  commonly  estab- 
lished where  a  synagogue  had  gone  before.  We  might 
call  it  a  train  of  powder,  or  better  still  an  electric 
chain,  along  which  the  new  thought  flashed  almost  in 
an  instant. 

For  a  hundred  and  fifty  years,  Judaism  —  till  then 
restricted  to  the  East  and  Egypt  —  had  taken  flight 
toward  the  West.  Important  Jewish  colonies  were 
found  in  Cyrene,  Cyprus,  Asia  Minor,  with  certain  cities 
of  Macedonia,  Greece,  and  Italy .^  Jews  showed  the 
first  example  of  that  quality  of  patriotism  since  dis- 
played by  Parsees,  by  Armenians,  and,  to  a  certain 
extent,  by  modern  Greeks.  This  sentiment  is  very  en- 
ergetic, though  not  fixed  to  a  special  soil ;  it  is  the 
patriotism  of  merchants,  scattered  everj^where,  who 
know  one  another  as  brothers ;  a  patriotism  that  forms, 
not  great  States,  but  little  autonomous  communities  in 
the  heart  of  other  States.  Strongly  bound  together, 
these  Jews  of  the  Dispersion  made  congregations  in  the 
cities,  almost  independent,  with  their  own  officers  and 
councils.  In  some  places  they  had  an  "  ethnarch,"  or 
"  alabarch,"  with  almost  regal  powers.  They  occupied 
their  own  quarters,  withdrawn  from  the  ordinary  juris- 
diction, looked  on  with  scorn  by  the  rest  of  the  world, 
but  the  abodes  of  peace  and  happiness.  In  general, 
they  were  rather  poor  than  rich.     The  time  of  great 

1  Cic.  Pro  Flacco,  28;  Philo,  In  Place.  7;  Leg.  36;  Acts  ii.  5-11;  vi. 
9;  Corp.  inscr.  gr.  5361. 


GENERAL   COURSE   OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      243 

Jewish  fortunes  was  not  yet  come ;  these  began  in 
Spain,  under  the  Visigoths.^  The  control  held  by  Jews 
over  the  finances  was  due  to  the  business  incapacity 
of  the  barbarians,  the  scorn  felt  by  the  Church  for 
the  science  of  finance,  and  its  superficial  notions  as 
to  loans  at  interest.  Now,  when  a  Jew  is  not  rich, 
he  is  poor;  middle-class  comfort  is  not  for  him.  At 
all  events,  he  can  very  well  endure  poverty.  What  he 
understands  better  yet,  is  to  ally  the  most  lofty  religious 
exaltation  with  the  rarest  business  capacity.  Theo- 
logical eccentricity  by  no  means  excludes  good  sense 
in  practical  affairs.  In  England,  America,  and  Russia, 
very  expert  traders  are  found  among  the  strangest  of 
sectaries,  Irvingites,  Latter-Day  Saints,  or  Raskolniks. 

Jewish  life,  when  piously  conducted,  has  always  had 
the  quality  of  producing  much  gaiety  and  warm-heart- 
edness. In  this  little  world  people  were  fond  of  one 
another.  Their  hearts  clung  to  a  Past,  and  the  same 
Past.  Their  life  was  encompassed  as  in  a  soft  embrace, 
by  the  ceremonies  of  religion.  This  was  something  like 
the  separate  communities  that  still  exist  in  every  great 
Turkish  town ;  the  Greek,  Armenian,  and  Jewish  com- 
munities in  Smyrna,  for  example,  narrow  brotherhoods, 
where  everybody  knows  everybody,  where  all  live  to- 
gether^ gossip  and  intrigue  together.  In  these  petty 
republics,  questions  of  religion  always  outweigh  those 
of  politics,  or  rather,  supply  the  lack  of  them.  So  a 
heresy  is  an  affair  of  State ;  a  schism  always  begins 
with  some  question  of  persons.  The  Romans  rarely,  if 
ever,  penetrated  these  reserved  districts.  The  synagogue 
puts  forth  decrees  and  confers  titles  of  honour,^  thus 

1  Lex  Visig.  xii.  2,  3  (Walter,  Corp.  Juris  germ.  ant.  i.  630). 

2  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  p.  177. 


244  THE  APOSTLES. 

acting  as  a  real  municipality.  Such  corporations  had 
great  influence.  In  Alexandria  this  was  at  its  highest, 
and  dominated  the  whole  inside  history  of  that  city.* 
Jews  were  numerous  also  at  Rome,^  and  constituted  a 
power  not  to  be  disdained ;  Cicero  speaks  of  it  as  a 
courageous  thing  that  he  once  dared  to  oppose  them,^ 
while  Caesar  favoured  them  and  found  them  loyal.*  To 
keep  them  in  check,  Tiberius  had  recourse  to  the  sever- 
est measures.^  Caligula,  whose  reign  was  so  disastrous 
to  them  in  the  East,  restored  their  liberty  of  association 
at  Rome.^  Claudius,  who  favoured  them  in  Judaea,  was 
forced  to  expel  them  from  the  city.''^  They  were  to  be 
met  everywhere ;  ^  and  it  might  be  said  of  them,  as 
of  the  Greeks,  that  the  conquered  gave  laws  to  their 
conquerors.^ 

The  feelings  of  native  populations  towards  these 
foreigners  were  very  various.  On  the  one  hand,  the 
Jews  themselves,  wherever  they  were  numerous  and 
well  organised,  created  a  strong  feeling  of  repulsion 
and  antipathy  by  their  spirit  of  jealous  seclusion,  their 
rancorous   temper,   and  their  unsocial   ways.*"     When 

1  Philo,  In  Flacc.  5,  6;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  8:  1 ;  xix.  5:2;  War,  ii.  18: 
7  ;  vii.  10  :  1 ;  also  a  papyrus  in   Notices  et  Extraits,  xviii.  2:  383. 

2  Dion  Cass,  xxxvii.  17;  Ix.  6;  Philo,  Leg.  23;  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10:  8; 
xvii.  11:  1;  xviii.  3:  5;  Hor.  5a/.  i.  4 :  142, 143;  5:  100;  9:  69;  Pers.  Sat. 
V.  179-184;  Suet.  Tib.  36,  Claud.  25,  Dom.  12;  Juvenal,  iii.  14;  vi.  542. 

«  Pro  Flacco,  28. 

*  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10;  Suet.  Jul.  84. 

6  Suet.  Tih.  36;  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  85;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  3:  4,  5. 

•  Dion  Cass.  Ix.  6. 

'  Suet.  Claud.  25;  Acts  xviii.  2;  Dion  Cass.  Ix.  6. 

8  Jos.  War,  vii.  3:  3. 

"  Sen.  in  Aug.  Civ.  Dei,  vi.  11 ;  Rutil.  Num.  i.  395 ;  Jos.  C  Apian, 
ii.  39 ;  Juv.  vi.  544 ;  xiv.  96. 

1°  Philo,  Flacc.  5;  Tac  Hist.  v.  4,  5,  8;  Dion  Cass.  xlix.  22 ;  Juv.  xiv 
103;  Diod.  Sic.  xxxiv.  1;  xl.  3  (fr.);  Philostr.  Apoll.  7;  Philo,  Flacc.  and 
Leg.  ad  Caium. 


GENERAL   COURSE   OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      245 

they  were  free,  they  were  really  a  privileged  class,  for 
they  had  the  benefits  of  political  society  without  its 
burdens.^  Charlatans  among  them  profited  by  the  cu- 
riosity felt  towards  their  worship,  pretending  to  expose 
their  secrets,  and  committing  all  manner  of  knavery.^ 
Violent  and  scurrilous  pamphlets,  like  that  of  Apion, 
from  which  pagan  writers  too  often  got  their  informa- 
tion,^ went  about,  serving  as  food  to  pagan  spite.  The 
Jews  in  general  seem  to  have  been  apt  at  making  the 
most  of  petty  grievances.  They  were  looked  at  as  a 
secret  society,  ill-disposed  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  push- 
ing their  way  at  all  cost,  and  at  any  damage  to  other 
men.*  Their  queer  customs,  their  aversion  to  certain 
foods,  their  dirt,  their  low-bred  air,  their  evil  smell,^ 
their  religious  scruples,  their  quiddling  observance  of  the 
Sabbath,  —  all  was  found  ridiculous.^  Shut  out  from 
society,  the  Jews  naturally  had  no  care  to  pass  as  gen- 
tlemen. As  travellers  they  were  everywhere  to  be  met, 
in  clothes  shiny  with  dirt,  a  gawky  air,  a  tired  look,  pale 
face,  and  big  bleary  eyes,'^  open  mouths,  walking  apart 
with  their  wives  and  children,  their  packages  of  rugs, 
and  the  hamper  that  contained  all  their  outfit.*     In 


^  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10;  xvi.  6;  xx.  8:7;  Philo,  Place,  and  Leg. 

^  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  3:4,  5  ;  Juv.  vi.  543. 

8  See  Jos.  C.  Apion  ;  references  as  above  to  Tacitus  and  Diod.  Siculus ; 
Trog.  Pomp.  (Justin),  xxxvi.  2;  Ptol.  Hsephest.  or  Chennus  (Westermann, 
Script,  poet.  gr.  194 ;  Quintil.  iii.  7 :  2. 

*  Cic.  Place.  28;  Tac.  Hist.  v.  5;  Juv.  xiv.  103;  Diod.  Sic.  and  Philostr. 
(as  above);  Rutil.  Num.  i.  383. 

6  Mart.  iv.  4;  Amm.  Marcell.  xxii.  5. 

«  Suet.  Aug.  76;  Hor.  Sat.  i.  9 :  69;  Juv.  iii.  13-16,  296 ;  vi.  156-160, 
542-547 ;  xiv.  96-107;  Mart.  Epigr.  iv.  4 ;  vii.  29,  34,  54 ;  xi.  95;  xii.  57; 
Kutil.  Num.  (as  above);  Jos.  C.  Ap.  u.  13;  PhUo,  Leg.  26-28. 

'  Mart.  Epigr.  xii.  57. 

8  Juv.  Sat.  iii.  14;  vi.  542. 


246  THE  APOSTLES. 

towns  they  practised  the  meanest  crafts,  as  beggars,* 
ragmen,  peddlers,  and  matchboys.^  Their  past  history 
and  law  was  unfairly  flung  in  their  face :  sometimes 
they  were  denounced  as  superstitious  and  cruel ;  ^  some- 
times as  atheists  and  despisers  of  the  gods,*  their  hatred 
of  images  seeming  mere  impiety.  Circumcision,  espe- 
cially, served  as  the  butt  of  never-ending  jests.^ 

But  everybody  did  not  judge  in  this  shallow  way. 
The  Jews  had  as  many  friends  as  slanderers.  Their 
sobriety,  good  morals,  and  simplicity  of  worship  charmed 
whole  multitudes.  Men  felt  a  certain  superiority  in 
them.  A  great  monotheistic  and  Mosaic  propaganda 
was  forming ;  ^  a  powerful  cyclone  (so  to  speak)  was 
gathering  about  this  little  clan  of  peculiar  people.  The 
poor  Jewish  peddler  across  the  Tiber,^  with  his  wicker 
tray  of  haberdashery,  might  often  come  home  at  night 
rich  with  doles  from  some  pious  hand.^  Women,  espe- 
cially, were  drawn  to  these  threadbare  missionaries.^ 
Juvenal  includes  the  inclination  to  the  Jewish  worship 
among  the  vices  which  he  charges  against  the  ladies  of 
his  time ;  ^"  while  those  of  them  who  were  converted 
boasted  of  the  treasure  they  had  found,  and  the  glad- 

1  Juv.  iii.  296;  vi.  543;  Mart.  i.  42;  xii.  .57. 

2  Mart.  L  42;  xii.  57;  Stat.  SUv.  vi.  73,  74;  Forcellini,  s.  v.  sul- 
furatnm. 

8  Hor.  Sat.  i.  5:  100;  Juv.  vi.  544;  xiv.  96;  Apul.  Flor.  i.  6;  Dion 
Cass.  Ixviii.  32. 

4  Tac.  Hist.  V.  5,  9 ;  Dion.  Cass.  Ixvii.  14. 

5  Hor.  Sat.  i.  9:  70;  Apella  (in  Forcellini  the  word  seems  to  be 
Apion);  Avitus,  poem.  v.  364;  Juv.  xiv.  99  ;  Mart.  vii.  29,  34,  54  ;  xi.  95. 

6  Jos.  C.  Ap.  ii.  39;  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  85;  Hist.  v.  5;  Hor.  Sat.  i.  4:  142, 
143;  Juv.  xiv.  95,  96;  Dion  Cass,  xxxvii.  17;  Ixvii.  14. 

">  Mart.  i.  42 ;  xii.  57. 
8  Juv.  vi.  546. 

»  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  3:5;  xx.  2:  4  ;  War,  ii.  20:  2;  Acts  xiii.  50;  xvi.  14. 
^*  See  the  passages  cited  above. 


GENERAL   COURSE   OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      247 

ness  of  heart  they  had  won.^  The  old  Greek  and 
Roman  spirit  made  strong  resistance  :  contempt  and 
hatred  for  Jews  were  a  mark  of  all  cultivated  minds,  — 
Cicero,  Horace,  Seneca,  Juvenal,  Tacitus,  Quintilian, 
Suetonius.^  On  the  other  hand,  that  prodigious  mass 
of  mixed  populations  subjected  under  the  Empire,  to 
which  the  old  Roman  spirit  and  Grecian  wisdom  were 
alike  strange  or  indifferent,  thronged  in  crowds  toward 
a  Society  in  which  they  found  touching  examples  of 
harmony,  charity,  and  mutual  help,^  content  with  one's 
condition,  a  liking  for  toil,'*  and  a  high-hearted  poverty. 
Beggary,  which  was  afterwards  a  condition  wholly 
Christian,  was  then  a  Jewish  one.  The  beggar  by 
trade,  "  shaped  to  it  by  his  mother,"  was  in  the  mind 
of  a  poet  of  that  time  figured  as  a  Jew.® 

Exemption  from  certain  civil  burdens,  in  particular 
from  military  service,  might  also  aid  in  making  the 
Jewish  lot  seem  enviable.®  The  State  then  exacted 
many  sacrifices  and  offered  few  delights.  Its  moral 
climate  was  icy  cold,  like  that  of  a  high,  flat,  shelterless 
table-land.  Life  so  bleak  in  the  heart  of  paganism 
resumed  its  charm  and  value  in  the  mild  atmosphere  of 
the  Synagogue  and  the  Church.  It  was  not  liberty  you 
found  there.  The  brethren  kept  a  watch  upon  one 
another,  and  crossed  one  another's  paths  incessantly. 
But  whatever  stir  might  perplex  the  inner  life  of  these 
little  communities,  there  was  infinite  gladness  to  be 
found  there ;  one  never  left  it,  there  was  no  such  thing 


1  Jos.  Ant.  XX.  2:  5;  4  :  1. 

2  As  shown  in  passages  above  cited.     Strabo  shows  far  more  good 
sense  and  penetration  (xvi.  2:  34) ;  comp.  Dion  Cass,  xxxvii.  17,  18. 

8  Tac.  Hist.  V.  5.  *  Jos.  C.  Ap.  ii.  39. 

6  Mart.  xii.  57.  «  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10 :  6 ;  11-14 


248  THE  APOSTLES. 

as  an  apostate.  There  the  poor  man  was  content  with 
little,  saw  wealth  without  envy,  and  was  rich  in  the 
composure  of  a  good  conscience.^  The  truly  demo- 
cratic thought,  that  worldliness  is  madness,  that  wealth 
is  vain,  and  grandeur  is  unholy,  had  a  fine  expression 
here.  There  was  little  knowledge  of  the  pagan  world, 
which  was  judged  with  extravagant  severity.  Roman 
civilisation  seemed  a  mass  of  corruption  and  odious  vice 
(Rom.  i.  24-32),  just  as  an  honest  labourer  of  our  day, 
steeped  in  socialistic  declamations,  paints  to  himself 
"  the  aristocrats "  in  the  blackest  colours.  But  here 
was  life,  gaiety,  interest,  such  as  we  find  to-day  m 
the  poorest  synagogues  of  the  Polish  and  Galician 
Jews.  The  lack  of  elegance  and  delicacy  in  living 
was  made  good  by  a  priceless  family  spirit  and  patri- 
archal kindliness.  In  high  society,  on  the  other  hand, 
selfishness  and  solitude  of  soul  had  borne  their  ripest 
fruit. 

The  word  of  the  prophet  Zechariah  (viii.  23)  was  now 
coming  true:  that  "men  from  all  languages  of  the 
nations  shall  take  the  hem  of  the  garment  of  one  that 
is  a  Jew,  saying.  Take  us  to  Jerusalem ;  we  will  go 
with  you,  for  we  have  heard  that  God  is  with  you." 
There  was  no  city  where  the  Sabbath,  the  fast,  and 
other  Jewish  observances  were  not  kept.^  Josephus® 
challenges  those  who  doubt  this  to  consider  their  own 
country  or  even  their  own  house,  to  see  if  they  will  not 
find  confirmation  of  what  he  says.  This  repute  was 
greatly  aided  by  the  presence  in  Rome  and  near  the 
emperor  of  many  of  Herod's  household,  who  conspic- 

1  Ecclus.  X.  25-27. 

2  Hor.  Sat.  i.  9 :  69;  Pers.  v.  179  ;  Juv.  vi.  159 ;  xiv.  96. 
»  C.  Ap.  ii.  39. 


GENERAL  COURSE  OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      249 

Tiously  practised  their  rite  before  the  face  of  all.^  The 
Sabbath  observance,  too,  became  inevitable  in  the  quar- 
ters occupied  by  Jews.  Their  obstinate  refusal  to  open 
their  shops  on  this  day  compelled  their  neighbours  to 
change  their  customs  accordingly.  So  at  Salonica  we 
may  say  that  the  Jewish  Sabbath  is  still  kept  in  our 
day ;  for  there  the  Jews  are  numerous  enough  and  rich 
enough  to  make  the  law,  and  prescribe  the  day  of  rest 
by  the  mere  closing  of  their  counting-houses. 

In  the  conquest  of  the  West  by  the  East,  the  Syrian 
was  almost  as  efficient  as  the  Jew,  and  was  often  his 
associate.^  Each  was  sometimes  mistaken  for  the  other; 
and  Cicero  thought  he  had  hit  on  the  trait  common  to 
both,  in  calling  them  "  races  born  for  slavery."  ^  This 
was,  in  truth  the  thing  that  assured  their  future;  for 
just  then  the  future  was  for  slaves.  A  quality  in  the 
Syrian  no  less  essential  was  his  docility,  his  suppleness, 
the  thin  lucidity  of  his  mind.  The  Syrian  nature  is 
like  a  fleeting  image  in  the  clouds.  For  a  moment,  we 
may  see  certain  lines  delicately  traced  ;  but  these  never 
make  up  a  complete  design.  In  the  shadow,  or  by  the 
uncertain  light  of  a  lamp,  a  Syrian  woman,  under  her 
veil,  with  her  vague  glance  and  boundless  pliancy,  will 
cause  a  few  moments  of  illusion.  But  when  you  would 
analyse  this  beauty,  it  will  not  abide  your  gaze.  And 
then,  this  evanescent  beauty  lasts  hardly  for  three  or  four 
years.  In  the  Syrian  race  the  charm  is  in  the  child  of 
five  or  six,  —  just  the  opposite  from  the  Greek,  where 
the   child   is  of  small  account,   the  youth  inferior  to 

1  Pers.  V.  179-184 ;  Juv.  vi.  157-160.  Hence  the  striking  attention 
paid  to  Judaism  which  we  notice  in  the  Roman  writers  of  this  century, 
especially  the  satirists. 

2  Juv.  iii.  62. 

*  Cic.  De  prov.  consul.  5 :  Judceis  et  Syris,  nationibtts  natis  servituH. 


250  THE  APOSTLES. 

the  grown  man,  and  the  grown  man  inferior  to  the 
aged.  The  children  who  most  delighted  me  in  my  first 
visit  to  Syria,  I  found,  four  years  later,  ugly,  common- 
place, and  heavy.  Intelligence  in  a  Syrian  wins  you  by 
a  certain  swiftness  and  lightness  of  touch,  but  lacks 
firm  quality  j  like  the  "  golden  wine  "  of  the  Lebanon, 
which  tickles  the  palate  delightfully,  but  soon  palls. 
The  true  "  gift  divine  "  is  that  which  is  at  once  strong 
and  delicate,  exhilarating  and  permanent.  Greece  is 
better  appreciated  to-day  than  ever  before,  and  so  it 
will  always  be,  more  and  more. 

Many  emigrants  from  Syria,  drawn  to  the  "West  by 
the  hope  of  a  fortune,  were  more  or  less  attached  to 
Judaism.  Those  who  were  not  kept  true  to  their  own 
village  worship ;  ^  that  is,  to  the  memory  of  some  temple 
dedicated  to  a  local  Jupiter  —  meaning,  commonly,  the 
Supreme  God  under  some  special  name ;  ^  for  under  the 
guise  of  their  foreign  gods  the  Syrians  held  to  a  sort  of 
monotheism.  Their  gods  are  mostly  so  many  names 
for  the  Sun,  brothers  (as  it  were)  of  the  One  God,  —  at 
least  when  put  beside  the  sharply  marked  divine  per- 
sonalities of  Greek  and  Roman  polytheism.^  Like  long 
enervating  strains  of  melody,  these  Syrian  cults  might 
seem  less  bare  and  hard  than  the  Latin,  less  empty 
than  the  Greek.  The  Syrian  women  caught  from  them 
something  voluptuous  and  intense.  They  were  at  all 
times  strange  creatures,  tossed  to  and  fro  between  the 
devil  and  the  Deity,  floating  between  the  possessed  and 

1  Uarfmois  deo7s,  a  common  formula  in  Syrian  inscriptions :  Corp.,  etc., 
4449,  4450,  4451,  4463,  4479,  4480,  6015. 

2  Corp.,  etc.,  2271,  4474,  4475,  5853,  5936:  Miss,  de  PMn.  ii.  2:  inscr. 
of  Abed  at. 

8  See  my  notes  in  Journ.  Asiat.  Feb.,  Mar.,  1859,  p.  259,  and  in  the 
Mission  de  Phenicie,  ii.  2. 


GENERAL   COURSE   OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      251 

the  saintly.  The  saint  of  solid  virtues,  of  heroic  re- 
nunciations, belongs  to  other  races  and  other  climes ; 
the  Syrian  saint  is  the  saint  of  warm  imagination,  of 
absolute  entrancement.  The  "  bewitched  "  woman  [^pos- 
sedee)  of  the  Middle  Age  is  the  slave  of  Satan  through 
a  base  nature  or  a  deed  of  sin ;  her  counterpart  in 
Syria  is  insane  through  some  illusion,  one  whose  heart 
is  lacerated,  who  retaliates  by  frenzy  or  shuts  herself 
up  in  dumbness,^  and  will  not  be  healed  until  a  soft 
word  has  been  spoken,  or  a  tender  glance  bestowed. 
When  taken  to  the  Western  world,  these  Syrian  women 
would  gain  influence,  sometimes  by  evil  feminine  arts, 
but  oftener  by  a  certain  moral  elevation  and  a  practical 
faculty  of  their  own.  This  was  especially  the  case  a 
century  and  a  half  later,  when  men  of  the  highest 
rank  in  Rome  married  Syrian  women,  who  at  once  took 
great  control  in  affairs.  The  Moslem  woman  of  to-day,  a 
howling  fury,  stupidly  fanatic,  who  hardly  lives  for  any- 
thing but  mischief,  almost  incapable  of  virtue, —  such 
a  creature  should  not  drive  from  our  memory  women 
like  Julia  Domna  (wife  of  Sept.  Severus),  Julia  Maesa, 
Julia  Mamaea  (mother  of  Alex.  Severus),  Julia  Soemie, 
who  in  matters  of  religion  brought  to  Rome  a  tolerance 
and  a  class  of  mystical  emotions  till  then  unknown. 
It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  Syrian  sway  thus  brought  to 
Rome  was  favourable  to  Christianity ;  that  Mamaea, 
and  afterwards  the  emperor  Philip  the  Arab,  born  in 
the  Hauran,  were  reputed  to  be  Christian.  The  Chris- 
tianity of  the  third  and  fourth  centuries  had  its  peculiar 
home  in  Syria ;  and,  after  Palestine,  Syria  had  the 
greatest  share  in  its  extension. 

1  See  in  Land's  Syrian  Code  (Anecd.  Syr.,  i.  152)  for  cases  such  as  I  have 

witnessed. 


252  THE  APOSTLES. 

In  the  first  century,  the  pervasive  activity  of  the 
Syrian  was  chiefly  felt  at  Rome.  Holding  most  of  the 
petty  callings,  as  body-servant,  business  agent,  litter- 
carrier,  the  Syrian  ^  found  his  way  everywhere,  taking 
with  him  the  language  and  manners  of  his  country.^ 
He  had  neither  the  high  temper  nor  the  philosophic 
disdain  of  the  European,  still  less  his  vigour ;  he  was 
weak  in  body,  pale,  often  feverish,  unable  to  eat  or 
sleep  at  regular  hours  like  our  heavy  and  sturdy  race ; 
he  slept  little  and  lightly,  died  young,  and  was  an 
habitual  invalid,  like  the  Christian  Syrian  of  our  day. 
His  good  qualities  a  lowly  temper,  gentleness,  readiness 
of  speech,  kindliness  of  heart ;  no  sturdiness  of  mind, 
but  much  charm ;  showing  little  shrewdness  except  in 
matters  of  trade,  but  an  astonishing  warmth,  and  a 
winning  way  quite  like  a  woman's.  Having  never  had 
political  life  in  view,  he  was  quite  specially  adapted  to 
religious  activities.  The  poor  Maronite  you  see  in  the 
Lebanon  to-day,  womanish,  humble-minded,  tattered,  has 
made  one  of  the  greatest  of  revolutions.  His  ancestor, 
the  Syrian  at  Rome,  was  the  most  zealous  bearer  of 
"the  good  news"  to  all  the  afflicted.  Every  year 
brought  to  Greece,  Italy,  or  Gaul  colonies  of  those  Syri- 
ans, driven  by  their  native  bent  for  petty  occupations.^ 
They  were  well  known  on  shipboard  by  their  numerous 
household ;  the  troops  of  pretty  children,  almost  all  of  an 
age,  who  followed  them ;  the  mother,  with  her  childish 
air  like  a  girl  of  fourteen,  clinging  close  to  her  hus- 
band, submissive,  softly  smiling,  hardly  taller  than  her 

^  See  Forcellini,  s.  v.  Syrus,  a  general  name  for  "  Orientals  " :  Leblaut, 
Inscr.  chre't.  de  la  Gaule,  i.  207,  328. 

2  Juv.  iii.  62,  63. 

^  See  inscriptions  in  Mem.  de  la  Soc.  des  A7itiquaires  de  France,  38:  4; 
Leblant,  i.  144,  207,  324,  353,  375;  ii.  259,  459. 


GENERAL   COURSE  OF  CHRISTIAN  MISSIONS.      253 

older  boys.-^  In  this  qniet  group  heads  are  not  strongly 
marked :  surely  here  is  no  Archimedes,  Phidias,  or 
Plato !  But  this  Syrian  trader,  when  he  gets  to  Rome, 
will  be  a  kind  and  tender-hearted  man,  charitable  to 
his  own  people,  and  loving  to  the  poor.  He  will  chat 
with  the  slaves,  and  show  them  a  refuge  where  these 
wretches,  driven  by  Roman  cruelty  to  the  loneliest 
desolation,  will  find  some  little  comfort.  Those  master- 
races,  Greek  and  Latin,  made  for  greatness,  knew  not 
what  to  make  of  a  station  so  lowly .^  In  these  races 
the  slave  spent  his  life  in  revolt  and  malice,  —  greedy, 
lying,  spiteful,  his  master's  natural  enemy :  ^  such  was 
the  ideal  slave  of  antiquity,  —  thus,  in  a  manner,  prov- 
ing his  nobility,  for  so  he  protests  against  a  condition 
contrary  to  nature.  The  good  Syrian  makes  no  such 
protest,  but  accepts  his  low  estate,  and  seeks  to  make 
the  best  of  it.  He  wins  his  master's  good-will,  ven- 
tures to  speak  to  him,  knows  how  to  please  his  mistress. 
Thus  goes  this  great  agent  of  democracy,  untying  mesh 
by  mesh  the  network  of  ancient  civilisation.  The  old 
societies,  founded  on  contempt  for  man,  inequality  of 
race,  and  military  valour,  were  doomed.  Weakness, 
lowliness,  are  henceforth  to  be  an  advantage,  a  fin- 
ishing touch  of  virtue  (2  Cor.  xii.  9).  For  yet  three 
centuries,  Roman  nobleness  and  Greek  wisdom  will 
maintain  the  struggle.  That  these  wretches  should  be 
got  rid  of  by  the  thousand,  Tacitus  finds  a  good  thing : 
"  Cheap  loss  if  they  all  perish  !  "  quoth  he.*     The  Roman 

1  The  Maronites  still  have  their  colonies  —  like  the  Jews,  Armenians, 
and  Greeks,  but  on  a  smaller  scale  —  almost  everywhere  in  the  Levant. 

2  See  Cic.  Be  off.  i.  42 ;  Bion  Halicarn.  ii.  28  ;  ix.  25. 
8  See  their  types  in  Plautus  and  Terence. 

*  Ann.  ii.  85. 


254  THE  APOSTLES. 

aristocracy  will  chafe,  and  find  it  ill  that  such  a  mob 
should  have  its  gods  and  institutions.  But  the  victory 
is  foredoomed.  The  Syrian  —  the  poor  man  who  loves 
his  fellows,  shares  with  them,  acts  with  them  —  will 
win  the  day.  The  Roman  aristocracy  will  perish, 
because  it  knows  no  pity. 

To  understand  the  impending  revolution,  we  need  to 
take  account  of  the  political,  social,  moral,  mental,  and 
religious  condition  of  those  lands  where  Jewish  prose- 
lytism  had  opened  the  furrows  wherein  Christian  in- 
struction should  cast  the  seed.  This  study  will,  as 
I  trust,  clearly  show  that  the  world's  conversion  to 
Jewish  and  Christian  ideas  was  inevitable ;  and  will 
leave  us  only  to  wonder  that  the  conversion  was  so 
slow  and  late. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

GENERAL  CONDITION  OF  THE  WORLD.  —  A.  D.  45. 

The  political  condition  of  the  world  was  very  gloomy. 
All  authority  was  centred  in  Rome  and  in  her  legions ; 
and  here  were  found  the  most  shameful  and  degrading 
scenes.  The  Roman  aristocracy,  which  had  conquered 
the  world,  and  which  alone  remained  in  executive 
control  under  the  Caesars,  was  given  up  to  the  most 
unbridled  debauch  of  crime  that  the  world  has  ever 
known.  Julius  and  Augustus,  in  founding  the  imperial 
monarchy,  had  seen  the  need  of  their  time  with  perfect 
accuracy. .  The  world,  politically  speaking,  was  so  low 
that  no  other  form  of  government  was  possible.  Since 
Rome  had  acquired  numerous  provinces,  the  old  rule  of 
patrician  houses  —  a  sort  of  obstinate  and  evil-hearted 
Tories  —  could  endure  no  longer.-^  But  Augustus  had 
wholly  failed  of  his  true  political  duty,  in  leaving  the 
future  to  chance.  Caesarism,  without  a  law  of  inheri- 
tance, without  fixed  rules  of  adoption,  without  a-  law 
of  election,  without  constitutional  limits,  was  like  an 
enormous  weight  on  a  ship's  deck  without  ballast ;  there 
was  no  avoiding  the  most  dreadful  shocks.  Thrice 
within  a  century  —  under  Caligula,  Nero,  and  Domitian 
—  the  mightiest  power  that  ever  existed  fell  into  the 
hands  of  men  horribly  criminal  or  else  insane.  Hence 
horrors  that  have  hardly  been  outdone  by  the  worst 

1  Tac.  Ann.  i.  2 ;  Florus,  iv.  3 ;  Pomponius,  in  the  Digest,  i.  1 :  2 ;  fr.  2. 


256  THE  APOSTLES. 

monsters  of  Mogul  dynasties.  In  this  fatal  succession 
of  emperors,  we  are  fain  almost  to  pardon  a  Tiberius, 
who  was  not  wholly  evil  till  his  latest  years;  or  a 
Claudius,  who  at  worst  was  queer,  ill-balanced,  and  ill 
surrounded.  Rome  became  a  training-school  of  vice 
and  cruelty.  Still,  we  must  add  that  the  evil  came 
chiefly  from  the  East,  from  those  low-lived  flatterers, 
wretches  whom  Syria  and  Egypt  sent  to  Rome,^  where, 
making  their  gain  of  the  oppression  the  real  Romans 
suffered  under,  they  felt  themselves  to  be  all-powerful 
among  the  greater  criminals  who  governed.  The  most 
shocking  infamies  of  the  Empire,  such  as  the  deifying 
of  the  emperor  in  his  lifetime,  came  from  the  East, 
chiefly  from  Egypt,  which  was  then  one  of  the  rottenest 
communities  in  all  the  world.^ 

The  true  Roman  spirit,  however,  still  survived ;  human 
nobleness  was  not  wholly  blotted  out.  A  lofty  tradition 
of  public  virtue  remained  in  some  families,  which  came 
to  power  with  Nerva,  and  made  the  glory  of  the  age  of 
the  Antonines.  Tacitus  was  their  eloquent  interpreter. 
A  time  when  natures  were  ripening  so  radically  honour- 
able as  Quintilian,  Pliny  the  Younger,  and  Tacitus  is 
not  a  time  for  utter  despair.  The  surface  overflow  did 
not  reach  the  deep  body  of  uprightness  and  sobriety  in 
the  better  society  of  Rome ;  a  few  families  still  offered 
models  of  good  order,  devotion  to  duty,  harmony,  and 
solid  virtue.  In  the  noble  house  were  to  be  found 
admirable  wives  and  sisters.^     Was  there  ever  a  sadder 

1  Helicon,  Apelles,  Euceras,  etc.,  Eastern  "kings,"  were  considered 
by  the  Romans  as  masters  in  tyranny  to  the  bad  emperors:  Dion  Cass. 
Ux.  24. 

2  Tac.  Ann.  iv.  55,  56;  see  inscription  of  the  parasite  of  Antony  in 
Comptes  rendus,  etc.,  1864,  p.  166. 

8  See  the  funeral  discourse  of  Q.  Lucretius  Vespillo  on  his  wife  Turia, 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  257 

destiny  than  that  of  the  young  and  pure  Octavia, 
daughter  of  Claudius,  Nero's  wife,  unstained  amid  all 
infamies,  murdered  at  twenty-two,  without  ever  having 
tasted  an  hour  of  joy  ?  Inscriptions  are  not  rare,  de- 
scribing wives  as  castissimce,  iinivirce}  Wives  accom- 
panied their  husbands  into  exile ;  ^  and  others  (as  Arria) 
shared  their  heroic  death.  The  old  Roman  simplicity 
had  not  perished;  education  of  children  was  still  se- 
rious and  careful.  The  noblest  women  wrought  in  wool 
with  their  own  hands ;  and  in  the  best  families  cares  of 
the  toilet  were  little  known. ^ 

Those  excellent  men  of  State,  who,  so  to  speak, 
sprang  from  the  ground  under  Trajan,  were  no  sudden 
growth.  They  had  been  in  service  in  former  reigns, 
though  with  little  influence,  cast  into  the  shade  as  they 
were  by  the  freedmen  and  worthless  favourites  of  the 
emperor.  Men  of  the  noblest  valour  thus  held  high 
positions  under  Nero.  The  officers  as  a  class  were 
good ;  the  accession  of  bad  emperors,  disastrous  as  it 
was,  could  not  change  the  general  course  of  things,  or 
the  substance  of  the  State.  The  Empire  was  not  totter- 
ing, but  in  all  the  strength  of  vigorous  youth.  Decay 
came  two  centuries  later ;  and,  strange  to  say,  under  a 

in  the  text  first  published  in  full  by  Mommsen  {Mem.  de  I' Acad,  de  Berlin, 
1863,  p.  455);  also  that  on  Murdia  (Orelli,  No.  4860),  and  on  Matidia  by 
the  emperor  Hadrian  (in  Mommsen's  Mem.  p.  483).  The  Roman  satirists 
have  put  the  foibles  or  vices  of  women  in  too  strong  relief,  —  as  if  one 
should  take  those  of  the  seventeenth  century  for  a  true  picture  of  society 
at  that  time. 

1  Orelli,  2647,  2648,  2677,  2742,  4530,  4860;  Henzen,  7382,  7383,  7406; 
Eenier  (Algeria),  1987.  The  epithets,  even  if  false,  show  at  least  "the 
homage  paid  to  virtue." 

2  Pliny,  Epist.  vii.  9 ;  ix.  13 ;  Appian,  Bell.  Civ.  iv.  16.  Helvidius  Priscus 
was  thus  twice  accompanied  by  his  wife  Fannia,  who  was  a  thu'd  time 
exiled  after  his  death. 

8  Suet.  Aug.  73;  funeral  discourse  on  Turia  (1.  30). 

17 


2s8  THE  APOSTLES. 

far  less  evil  line  of  sovereigns.  To  look  only  at  the 
political  side,  the  situation  was  like  that  of  France 
since  the  Revolution ;  which,  with  no  regular  succession 
of  powers,  can  yet  pass  through  many  a  crisis  of  such 
peril,  without  deadly  hurt  to  its  interior  organisation 
or  national  strength.  Or,  looking  at  the  moral  aspect, 
we  may  compare  the  period  of  which  I  speak  to  the 
eighteenth  century,  which  we  might  think  utterly  cor- 
rupt, to  judge  from  memoirs,  manuscript  papers,  and 
collections  of  anecdotes ;  in  which,  notwithstanding, 
some  great  house  preserved  such  lofty  austerity  of 
morals.^ 

Philosophy  had  found  allies  in  the  high-born  Roman 
families,  and  made  a  noble  stand.  The  Stoic  school 
nourished  the  strong  characters  of  Cremutius  Cordus, 
Thraseas,  Arria,  Helvidius  Priscus,  Annaeus  Cornutus, 
and  Musonius  Rufus,  admirable  types  of  aristocratic 
virtue.  The  harshness  and  exaggerated  severities  of 
this  school  were  a  reaction  from  the  horrible  cruelty 
of  Caesarian  rule.  The  constant  study  of  good  men 
was  to  harden  themselves  against  torture,  and  prepare 
for  death.^  Lucan,  in  bad  taste,  Persius  with  higher 
talent,  expressed  the  loftiest  emotions  of  a  great  soul. 
The  philosopher  Seneca,  Pliny  the  elder,  and  Papirius 
Fabianus  held  to  a  lofty  tradition  of  science  and  phi- 
losophy. Not  everything  gave  way.  There  were  still 
wise  men,  but  too  often  there  was  nothing  else  left 
to  them  but  to  die.     At  times  the  meaner  classes  of 


^  So  we  are  to  explain  the  far  too  severe  charges  of  Paul  in  Rom. 
i.  24—30.  Paul  knew  nothing  of  the  better  Roman  society.  His  invec- 
tives, too,  are  like  the  pulpit  declamations  of  every  time,  which  we  must 
not  take  too  literally. 

*  Sen.  EpisU  12,  24,  26,  58,  70;  De  ira,  iii.  15;  De  tranq.  animi,  10. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE   WORLD.  259 

mankind  would  hold  the  upper  hand ;  then  a  spirit  of 
giddiness  and  cruelty  would  prevail,  and  make  Eome 
into  a  real  hell.^ 

This  government,  so  frightfully  capricious  at  Eome, 
was  far  better  in  the  provinces,  where  the  shocks  that 
smote  the  capital  were  little  felt.  Spite  of  its  faults, 
Roman  administration  was  better  than  the  kingdoms 
and  republics  which  it  had  crushed.  The  age  of  the 
one-city  sovereignty  was  gone  by  for  centuries.  Those 
petty  States  were  self- destroyed  through  their  self- 
seeking,  their  jealous  temper,  their  ignorance  or  dis- 
regard of  private  liberties.  The  old  Greek  life,  all 
conflict,  all  on  the  outside,  no  longer  met  anybody's 
need.  It  had  been  charming  in  its  day  ;  but  that  bril- 
liant Olympus,  that  democracy  of  demigods,  had  lost 
its  freshness  and  become  dry,  cold,  weak,  empty,  and 
thin,  for  lack  of  real  goodness  and  sound  integrity. 
This  lack  was  the  justification,  first,  of  the  Macedonian 
dominion,  and  afterwards  of  Roman  rule.  As  yet  the 
Empire  knew  not  the  ills  of  excessive  centralisation ; 
until  the  time  of  Diocletian  it  left  much  liberty  to 
provinces  and  cities ;  kingdoms  almost  independent 
remained,  under  Roman  protection,  in  Palestine,  in 
Syria,  in  Asia  Minor,  in  Lesser  Armenia,  and  in  Thrace. 
After  the  time  of  Caligula  these  kingdoms  began  to  be 
a  public  peril,  only  from  the  neglect  to  observe  toward 
them  the  rules  of  broad  and  profound  statesmanship 
which  Augustus  had  laid  down.^  The  free  cities,  still 
very  numerous,  were  governed  by  their  own  laws ;  they 
had  the  law-making  power  and  all  the  administrative 
functions  of  an  independent  State ;  down  to  the  third 
century  the  municipal  decrees  were  put  forth  under  the 

1  See  Rev.  Ch.  xvii. ;  Sen.  Episl.  95:  16-20.  »  Suet.  Aug.  48. 


26o  THE  APOSTLES. 

formula,  "  The  Senate  and  People,"  etc.,  as  we  see  in 
numberless  inscriptions.  Theatres  served  not  merely 
for  the  pleasures  of  the  stage,  but  were  everywhere 
centres  of  opinion  and  action.  Under  various  designa- 
tions, most  cities  were  little  commonwealths.  The 
municipal  spirit  was  very  strong  in  them,  as  we  see  in 
Plutarch ;  ^  only  the  right  of  making  war  was  taken 
from  them,  that  baleful  right,  which  had  converted  the 
world  into  a  field  of  blood.  "  The  benefits  conferred  by 
the  Roman  people  upon  the  human  race "  made  the 
theme  of  declamations  sometimes  adulatory,  but  not 
wholly  insincere.^  At  the  bottom  of  all  men's  thought 
was  veneration  for  "the  world-wide  majesty  of  the 
Roman  peace,"  ^  and  the  idea  of  a  grand  democracy 
under  the  tutelage  of  Rome.*  A  Greek  rhetorician 
maintained  with  vast  learning  that  the  glory  of  Rome 
was  to  be  gathered,  as  a  sort  of  common  patrimony, 
from  all  branches  of  the  Hellenic  race.^  As  to  Syria, 
Asia  Minor,  and  Egypt,  we  may  say  that  no  liberty 
was  crushed  in  any  of  them  by  the  Roman  conquest. 
These  countries  were  long  since  dead  to  political  life, 
or  else  had  never  had  it. 

In  short,  despite  the  extortion  of  governors  and  the 
acts  of  violence  inevitable  under  an  absolute  govern- 
ment, the  world,  in  many  respects,  had  never  been  so 
fortunate.  There  was  such  advantage  in  a  rule  pro- 
ceeding from  a  distant  centre  of  authority  that  it  was 
not  rendered  hateful  even  by  the  robberies  of  procon- 

1  Prcecept.  ger.  reipubl.  xv.  3,  4  ;  An  seni  sit  gerenda  respuhlica. 

2  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10 :  22,  23 ;  Tac.  Ann.  xv.  55,  56 ;  Rutil.  Num.  Itin.  i.  63. 
8  Immensa  romance  pacis  majestas  (Plin.  Hist.  Nat.  27  :  1). 

*  ^1.  Arist.  Elogium  Romce ;  Plut.  Fortuna  Romanorum ;  Philo,  Leg. 
21,  22,  39,  40. 

6  Dion  Halic.  Antiq.  Rom.  i.  (init.). 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  261 

suls  in  tlie  latter  years  of  the  Republic.  And  besides, 
the  Julian  Law  had  greatly  limited  the  field  of  abuses 
and  extortions.  The  emperor's  inanities  and  cruelties, 
excepting  under  Nero,  struck  only  at  the  Roman  aris- 
tocracy and  the  immediate  court-circle.  A  man  who 
chose  to  live  outside  of  politics  had  never  been  better 
off.  An  ancient  republic,  where  every  man  (as  under 
Solon's  law)  was  forced  to  take  sides  in  party  quarrels, 
made  a  very  inconvenient  home,  where  one  was  always 
liable  to  be  thrown  off  his  track  or  banished.  But 
now  the  time  seemed  expressly  suited  to  proselyting 
on  a  large  scale,  on  a  range  above  petty  municipal 
strifes  or  dynastic  rivalries.  Attacks  upon  liberty  came 
much  oftener  from  what  was  left  of  provincial  or  mu- 
nicipal independence  than  from  the  Roman  rule.^  T 
have  already  had,  and  shall  have  again,  many  an  occa- 
sion in  my  present  task  to  point  this  out. 

In  those  of  the  conquered  countries  where  political 
cravings  had  for  centuries  ceased  to  exist,  and  where 
the  only  right  lost  was  that  of  tearing  one  another  to 
pieces  by  incessant  wars,  the  Empire  made  an  era  of 
general  prosperity  and  well-being  —  we  may,  without 
paradox,  add  personal  liberty  —  such  as  had  never  been 
known.^  Freedom  of  trade  and  industry,  w^iich  the 
old  Greek  republics  had  never  dreamed  of,  was  now 
made  possible ;  while,  in  another  direction,  freedom 
of  thinking  had  gained  every  way  under  the  new  sys- 
tem of  rule.  This  kind  of  freedom  is  far  more  favoured 
by  having  to  do  with  a  king  or  prince  than  with  jealous 
and  narrow-minded  citizen-rulers.  In  the  ancient  repub- 
lics such  a  thing  did  not  exist.     The  Greeks  effected 

1  See  Athenaeus,  xii.  68;  ^lian,  Var.  Hist.  ix.  12;  Suidas,  s.v.  firiKovpos. 
*  Tac.  Ann.  i.  2. 


262  THE  APOSTLES. 

great  things  without  it,  owing  to  their  unrivalled 
genius ;  but,  as  we  should  not  forget,  Athens  had  her 
inquisition  out-and-out  —  as  we  see  by  the  character  of 
Plato's  Euthyphron.  The  grand  inquisitor  was  the 
"  king-archon ; "  the  Holy  Office  was  the  regal  Porch, 
whence  accusations  of  "impiety"  proceeded.  These 
were  very  numerous,  and  they  made  the  class  of  cases 
which  we  find  oftenest  in  the  Attic  orators.  Not  only 
philosophic  heresies,  such  as  the  denial  of  God  or  Prov- 
idence, but  the  slightest  infringement  on  the  municipal 
rites,  the  advocacy  of  foreign  religions,  the  most  child- 
ish breach  of  the  scrupulous  legislation  as  to  mysteries, 
were  crimes  visited  with  death.  The  gods  whom  Aris- 
tophanes derided  upon  the  stage  would  sometimes  kill. 
They  killed  Socrates,  and  they  all  but  killed  Alcibiades. 
Anaxagoras,  Protagoras,  Theodore  "  the  atheist,"  Diago- 
ras  of  Malos,  Prodicus  of  Ceos,  Stilpo,  Aristotle,  Theo- 
phrastus,  Aspasia,  and  Euripides  were  all  more  or  less 
seriously  molested.^  In  short,  freedom  of  thought  was  a 
growth  of  the  kingdoms  that  resulted  from  the  Macedo- 
nian conquest.  The  Attali,  the  Ptolemies,  were  the  first 
who  gave  to  thinkers  the  opportunities  which  none  of 
the  old  republics  had  ever  offered  them.  The  Roman 
Empire  continued  to  do  the  same.  There  was,  under 
the  Empire,  more  than  one  arbitrary  act  against  the 
philosophers  ;  but  this  was  always  when  they  interfered 
in  politics,  —  as  Helvidius  Priscus  under  Vespasian. 
We  should  seek  in  vain  "for  a  text  against  liberty  of 
thinking  in  the  whole  body  of  Roman  Law  before  Con- 
stantine,  or  for  a  law-trial  on  an  abstract  opinion  in  all 

1  Diog.  Laert.  2  :  101,  116;  5:  5,  6,  37,  38;  9  :  52;  Athen.  13  :  92; 
15:  52  ;  ^1.  2  :  23;  3  :  36;  Plut.  Pericles,  32;  De  plac.  i.  7  :  2;  Diod.  Sic. 
xiii.  6:7;  Schol.  in  Arist.  Birds,  1073. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE   WORLD.  263 

the  history  of  the  emperors.  Not  a  man  of  learning 
was  disturbed.  Men  who  in  the  Middle  Age  would 
have  been  burned  —  such  as  Galen,  Lucian,  and  Plo- 
tinus  —  lived  in  peace  under  the  shelter  of  the  law. 
The  Empire  established  a  period  of  liberty,  by  putting 
an  end  to  the  despotic  authority  of  the  family,  city, 
and  tribe,  and  supplanting  these  despotisms  by  the 
State.  Doubtless  the  Empire  persecuted  Christianity 
bitterly  at  various  times ;  ^  but  did  not  bring  it  to  a 
halt.  The  old  republics  would  have  made  its  career 
impossible ;  and  Judaism  might  have  stifled  it  but  for 
the  pressure  of  the  Roman  power.  It  was  the  Ro- 
man magistrates  that  prevented  the  Pharisees  from 
killing  it.^ 

Broad  ideas  of  universal  brotherhood,  coming  mostly 
from  the  Stoics,^  were  an  outgrowth  from  the  broader 
system  and  the  less  exclusive  training  now  established.* 
There  were  thoughts  of  a  new  era  and  of  new  worlds.^ 
There  was  vast  public  wealth ;  and,  despite  the  great 
general  ignorance  of  economics,  comfort  was  widely 
diffused.  Morals  were  not  so  bad  as  is  often  supposed. 
Vice,  it  is  true,  was  displayed  at  Rome  with  revolting 
nakedness  -,  ^  and  the  public  spectacles  had  brought  in 
a  shocking  degradation.     Some  countries,  like  Egypt, 

1  I  shall  try  to  show  hereafter  that  these  persecutions,  at  least  before 
that  of  Decius,  have  been  exaggerated. 

2  The  early  Christians  showed  much  respect  for  Roman  authority. 
Rom.  xiii.  1-4;  1  Pet.  iv.  14-16;  for  Luke's  view,  see  Introd.  pp.  13,  14. 

8  Diog.  Laert.  7  : 1,  32,  33;  Euseb.  PrcBr).  ev.  xv.  15;  Cic.  De  leg.  and 
De  off. 

*  Ter.  Heaut.  i.  1 :  77;  Cic.  De  Fin.  v.  23  ;  Ov.  Fast.  ii.  684;  Luc.  vi. 
54 ;  Sen.  Ep.  48 ;  95,  51 ;  De  ira,  1:5;  3  :  43;  Arr.  Epici.  i.  9 :  6;  ii.  5 :  26; 
Plut.  Defm-t  Rom.  2 ;  Alex.  1 : 8,  9. 

s  Virg.  Eel.  iv. ;  Sen.  Med.  375. 

6  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  85 ;  Suet.  Tib.  35 ;  Ovid,  Fasti,  ii.  497-514. 


264  ^HE  APOSTLES. 

had  sunk  to  the  very  depths  of  depravity.  But  in 
most  of  the  provinces  there  was  a  middle  class,  where 
kind  temper,  conjugal  fidelity,  home  virtues,  and  up- 
rightness were  widely  prevalent.^  Is  there  anywhere 
a  more  charming  picture  than  w^e  find  in  Plutarch,  of 
family  life  in  a  worthy  middle  class  in  a  small  city  ? 
What  kindness  of  heart,  what  gentleness  of  manners, 
what  pure  and  lovely  simplicity  !  ^  Cherongea  was  evi- 
dently not  the  only  place  where  life  was  thus  clean  and 
innocent. 

Customs,  outside  of  Rome  as  well,  were  still  in  some 
ways  cruel,  either  as  a  relic  of  old  manners,  everywhere 
so  bloody,  or  by  the  special  influence  of  the  Roman 
brutality.  Still,  here,  too,  there  was  progress.  What 
pure  and  gentle  emotion,  what  shade  of  tender  sadness, 
had  not  found  its  finest  expression  in  the  verse  of 
Virgil  and  Tibullus  ?  The  world  was  growing  softer, 
losing  its  antique  rigour,  coming  to  be  more  smooth 
and  sympathetic.  Humane  maxims  were  current : 
"  Tenderness  for  human  kind,"  says  Cicero ;  "  Man  is 
a  sacred  thing  to  man,"  adds  Seneca.^  Woman,  thanks 
to  the  Roman  right  of  dower,  was  more  and  more  her 
own  mistress;  a  humaner  treatment  of  slaves  was 
enjoined,  and  Seneca  had  them  at  his  own  table.*     The 

1  Inscriptions  relating  to  women  are  often  tender:  "  A  mother  to  all, 
a  parent  helpful  to  all,"  Renier,  AUj.  1987,  2756;  Mommsen,  Imcr.  1431; 
"  two  examples  of  virtue  and  purity  "  :  Not.,  etc.,  de  la  Soc.  de  Constan- 
tine,  1865,  p.  158;  see  Guerin,  Vor/.  dans  Tunis,  i.  289;  and  Orelli,  4648. 
Many  of  these  are  of  later  date,  but  the  sentiments  were  not  novel. 

^  Demosth.  2;  Dial,  on  love,  2;  Consolation  (to  his  wife). 

8  Cic.  Defn.  v.  23;  Sen.  Ep.  95:  3-3. 

4  Tac.  Ann.  xiv.  42,  43;  Suet.  Claud.  25;  Dion  Cass.  60:29;  Pliny, 
Ep.  viii.  16 ;  Inscr.  at  Lanuvium  (Mommsen,  de  coll.  etc.) ;  Sen.  rhet. 
Controv.  3  :  21  ;  7:6;  Sen.  (phil.)  Ep.  47  :  13;  De  henef.  3  :  18,  19; 
Colum.  De  re  rust.  1:8;  Plut.  Cato,  5;  De  ira,  11. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  265 

slave  is  no  longer  (as  a  matter  of  course)  the  spiteful 
and  grotesque  figure  brought  on  the  comic  stage  to 
provoke  peals  of  laughter,  whom  Cato  advises  us  to 
treat  as  a  beast  of  burden.^  The  times  are  greatly 
changed ;  the  slave  is  morally  his  master's  equal,  ad- 
mitted to  be  capable  of  virtue,  fidelity,  and  devotion,  as 
proved  by  instances.^  Prejudices  of  high  birth  were 
fading  out.^  Many  humane  and  just  laws  were  passed, 
even  under  the  worst  emperors.*  Tiberius  was  an  able 
financier,  and  founder  of  an  excellent  system  of  public 
credit.^  Nero  introduced  into  the  customs-office  im- 
provements which  shame  even  our  own  time.^  Legisla- 
tion was  much  advanced,  though  the  death  penalty  was 
still  absurdly  lavish.  Love  of  the  poor,  sympathy  for 
all,  and  almsgiving  were  acknowledged  virtues.'^ 

The  theatre  was  one  of  the  most  unendurable  scan- 
dals to  good  people,  and  one  of  the  chief  grounds  of  the 
hate  felt  by  Jews  and  all  their  sympathisers  against  the 
pagan  civilisation.    These  gigantic  pits  seemed  to  them 

1  Cato,  Z)e  re  rusi.  58,  59,  104;  Plut.  Cato,  4,  5;  comp.  Ecclus.  33: 
25,  26. 

2  Tac.  Ann.  xiv.  60;  Dion  Cass,  xlvii.  10;  Ix.  16;  Ixii.  13;  Ixvi.  14; 
Suet.  Cams,  16;  App.  Bell.  civ.  iv.  17,  36-51;  Juv.  vi.  476,  etc.  (of  the 
basest  class). 

8  Hor.  Sat.  i.  6;  Cic.  Epist.  iii.  7;  Sen.  rhet.  Controv.  i.  6. 

4  Suet.  Caius,  15, 16;  Claud.  19,  23,  25;  Nero,  16;  Dion  Cass.  Ix.  25,  29. 

6  Tac.  Ann.  vi.  17;  comp.  iv.  6. 

«  Tac.  Ann.  xiii.  50,  51 ;  Suet.  Nero,  10. 

T  jnscr.  lat.  no.  1027  (of  the  age  of  Augustus,  on  Evodus,  a  jeweller, 
'*  a  good  man  and  merciful,  loving  the  poor  ")  ;  Egger,  Mem.  d'hist.  351, 
352;  Perrot,  Explnr.  of  Galatia,  118,  119;  Fun.  disc,  on  Matidia,  by 
Adrian  (Mem.  de  VAcad.  de  Berlin,  1863,  p.  489);  Mommsen,  Inscr. 
jVeap.  1431,  2868,  4880;  Sen.  rhet.  Contr.  i.  1;  iii.  19;  iv.  27;  viii.  6; 
Sen.  phil.  De  clem.  ii.  5,  6  ;  De  henef.  i.  1 ;  ii.  11 ;  iv.  14  ;  vii.  31 ;  Leblant, 
Inscr.  gall.ii.  23;  Orelli,  4657;  Fea,  Fasti  consol.  90;  Garrucci,  Cimit. 
hebr.  44. 


266  THE  APOSTLES. 

the  cesspool  for  the  simmering  of  every  vice.  While 
the  lower  benches  applauded,  those  above  displayed 
only  repulsion  and  horror.  Gladiatorial  contests  with 
dilSiculty  got  footing  in  the  provinces ;  the  Greeks,  at 
least,  abhorred  them,  and  generally  kept  to  their  an- 
cient games.^  Bloody  contests  always  bore  in  the  East 
strong  testimony  of  their  Roman  origin.^  The  Athe- 
nians, having  once,  out  of  rivalry  with  Corinth,^  pro- 
posed to  imitate  these  barbarous  sports,  a  philosopher  (it 
is  said)  rose  and  moved  that  they  should  first  cast  down 
the  altar  of  Mercy.*  Horror  of  the  theatre,  the  race- 
course, and  the  gymnasium  —  those  public  places  which 
made  an  essential  feature  in  a  Greek  or  Roman  town 
—  thus  became  one  of  the  deepest  and  most  powerful 
of  Christian  sentiments.  Ancient  civilisation  was  out- 
of-doors  ;  everything  went  on  in  the  open  air,  before 
the  public  eye ;  with  us,  on  the  contrary,  life  is  private 
and  in-doors.  The  theatre  inherited  from  the  Agora 
and  the  Forum ;  a  curse  upon  the  theatre  included  the 
whole  structure  of  society;  and  the  deepest  jealousy 
arose  between  the  Church  on  one  side  and  Public  Games 
upon  the  other.  The  slave,  driven  from  the  games, 
took  refuge  in  the  Church.  I  have  never  sat  in  those 
dreary  arenas,  which  are  always  the  best  preserved 
monuments  of  an  ancient  city,  without  seeing  in  my 
mind's  eye  the  struggle  of  the  two  worlds  :  here  the 
honest  poor  man,  already  half-Christian,  seated  on  the 
lowest  bench,  which  he  quits  with  muffled  head  and 
angry  heart ;  there  a  philosopher  rising  on  a  sudden 

^  Corp.  inscr.  gr.  2758. 
2  76irf.  2194  6,  2511,  2759  6. 

'  Corinth  was  in  the  Roman  period  a  foreign  colony,  planted  by  Julius 
and  Augustus  on  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  city. 
*  Luciau,  Demonax,  57. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  267 

and  venting  his  indignation  upon  the  degraded  crowd.-' 
Such  instances  were  rare  in  the  first  century  ;  still  the 
protest  began  to  be  heard/  and  the  theatre  gradually 
became  a  place  of  very  ill  repute.^ 

Legislation  and  administration  in  the  Empire  were 
all  at  odds  and  ends.  Despotism  in  the  centre,  special 
grants  (franchises)  to  cities  and  provinces,  caprices  of 
governors,  and  violent  disorders  in  the  free  communi- 
ties, met  and  clashed  in  the  most  extraordinary  way ; 
but  religious  liberty  was  the  gainer.  The  excellent  sys- 
tematic administration  under  Trajan  and  his  successors 
was  far  more  damaging  to  the  new  religion  than  that 
irregular  hap-hazard  condition,  without  a  strict  police, 
in  the  times  of  the  Caesars. 

Institutions  of  public  relief,  founded  on  the  maxim 
that  the  State  has  parental  duties  toward  its  members, 
were  not  broadly  developed  till  after  Nerva  and  Trajan.* 
Some  trace  of  them,  however,  may  be  found  in  the 
first  century.^  Already  there  were  help  for  children,* 
giving  of  food  to  the  poor,  bakers'  taxes,  relief  to  trades- 
men, care  for  supplies,  policies  of  insurance  for  riggers, 
etc.,  bread-tickets  securing  grain  at  a  reduced  price.'^ 
All  the  emperors,  without  exception,  were  very  solici- 

^  Dion  Cass.  Ixvi.  15. 

2  ^1.  Aristides,  On  the  Comedy,  i.  751  (ed.  Dindorf). 

*  Their  ruins  in  Asia  Minor  are  still  places  of  infamous  resort  (see 
Ovid,  Ars  am.  i.  89,  90. 

<  Orelli-Henzen,  1172,  3362, 3363,  6669 ;  Gue'rin,  Tunis,  ii.  59;  Borghesi, 
Works,  iv.  269,  270;  E.  Desjardins,  De  tab.  alim.  (Paris,  1854);  Aur. 
Victor,  Epit.  Nerva;  Pliny,  Ep.  i.  8;  vii.  18. 

5  Desjardins,  pt.  ii.  ch.  1. 

«  Suet.  Aug.  41,  46;  Dion  Cass.  Ii.  21;  Iviii.  2. 

1  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  87;  vi.  13;  xv.  18,  39;  Suet.  Aug.  41,  42,  Claud.  18; 
Dion  Cass.  Ixii.  18 ;  Orelli,  3358,  3359 ;  Henzen,  6662,  6663 ;  see  Lexic. 
s.  V.  Tessera  frutnentaria. 


268  THE  APOSTLES. 

tous  on  these  points, —  small  matters  perhaps,  but  at 
times  most  pressing  of  all.  In  remote  antiquity  the 
world  had,  as  we  may  say,  no  need  of  charity  ;  it  was 
then  young  and  self-reliant,  and  for  the  hospital  there 
was  no  demand.  The  simple  morality  of  Homer,  hold- 
ing tlie  guest  or  beggar  as  sent  express  from  Jove,^  is 
the  morality  of  light-hearted  and  sturdy  youths.  Greece 
in  the  classic  period  enunciated  the  finest  maxims  of 
pity,  beneficence,  and  humanity,  without  any  reserve 
of  social  anxiety  or  sadness.^  Man  at  this  period  was 
sound  in  health  and  easy  in  mind:  he  need  take  no 
account  of  evil.  Greeks  were  far  in  advance  of  Romans 
in  provisions  for  mutual  help.^  No  liberal  or  charitable 
device  went  forth  from  that  cruel  oligarchy  which 
throughout  the  time  of  the  Republic  held  a  power  so 
oppressive.  In  the  period  which  now  concerns  us,  the 
colossal  fortunes  of  the  aristocracy,  luxury,  the  heaping- 
up  of  great  populations  in  crowded  centres,  —  still  more, 
the  hardness  of  heart  peculiar  to  the  Romans,  their 
loathing  of  pity,*  had  created  the  growth  of  pauper- 
ism. The  indulgences  lavished  by  some  of  the  emperors 
upon  the  Roman  mob  had  but  made  the  matter  worse. 
The  alms-basket  {spatula)  and  the  bread-tickets  (tesserce) 
did  but  encourage  vice  and  idleness,  and  brought  no  re- 
lief to  misery.  In  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  the 
East  was  really  far  in  advance  of  the  Western  world. 
The  Jews  had  true  charitable  institutions.  The  Egyptian 
temples  seem  sometimes  to  have  had  a  poor-box.^     The 

»  Odyss.  vi.  207. 

^  Eurip.  Suppl.  773;  Arist.  rhet.  ii.  8;   Eth.  Nicom.  viii.  1;   ix.  10  j 
Stob.  Flor,  37,  103;  also  Menander  and  the  comedians  {gr.). 
«  Arist.  Polk.  vi.  8:4,  5. 
*  Cic.  Tusc.  iv.  7,  8 ;  Sen.  De  Clem.  ii.  5,  6. 
^  Papyr.  in  the  Louvre,  37;  Notices  et  extr.  xviii.  pt.  2,  298. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE   WORLD.  269 

monastic  school  of  the  Serapeum  at  Memphis  (see  p.  96) 
was,  in  a  way,  a  charitable  foundation.  The  awful  crisis 
which  mankind  passed  through  in  the  imperial  capital 
was  little  felt  at  a  distance,  where  life  had  continued  to 
be  more  simple.  The  charge  of  having  poisoned  the 
very  soil,  the  likening  of  Rome  to  a  harlot  (Rev.  xv.  ii.) 
who  has  made  the  world  drunken  with  the  wine  of  her 
debauchery,  had  a  certain  truth.  The  province  was 
really  better  than  Rome  ;  or  rather,  the  impurities  that 
flowed  together  at  Rome  from  every  side,  as  into  a  vast 
sewer,  had  created  there  a  focus  of  infection,  in  which 
the  old  Roman  virtues  were  smothered,  while  the  good 
seed  brought  from  abroad  was  slow  in  growth. 

The  intellectual  condition  of  the  Empire,  in  its  seve- 
ral portions,  was  very  defective,  showing  in  this  regard 
a  real  decline.  High  mental  culture  is  not  so  indepen- 
dent of  political  conditions  as  is  private  morality,  be- 
sides that  the  advance  of  the  one  is  by  no  means  on 
lines  parallel  with  the  other.  Marcus  Aurelius  was 
doubtless  a  man  of  nobler  character  than  any  of  the 
old  Greek  philosophers  ;  but  his  scientific  notions  as  to 
the  facts  of  the  universe  were  far  behind  those  of  Aris- 
totle or  Epicurus :  he  even  had  his  times  of  believing 
in  the  gods  as  limited  and  distinct  persons,  in  dreams 
and  omens.  During  the  Roman  period  the  world  ex- 
perienced a  growth  in  morals  and  a  decline  in  science,  a 
decline  very  apparent  from  the  time  of  Tiberius  to  that 
of  Nerva.  Centuries  before,  with  originality,  force,  and 
resources  never  equalled,  Greek  genius  had  created  the 
cycle  of  rational  study,  the  normal  discipline  of  the 
mind.  This  wonderful  achievement,  dating  from  Thales 
and  the  early  Ionic  schools  (600  b.  c),  was  nearly  brought 
to  a  stop  about  120  b.  c.    The  last  survivors  of  those 


270  THE  APOSTLES. 

five  centuries  of  genius  ^  had  died  leaving  no  successors, 
unless  it  be  Posidonius  and  a  few  astronomers,  who  kept 
alive  the  old  traditions  of  Alexandria,  Rhodes,  and 
Pergamos.  Greece,  with  all  her  genius  to  create,  had 
gained  from  her  science  and  philosophy  neither  popular 
enlightenment  nor  a  defence  against  superstition.  While 
in  possession  of  admirable  schools  of  science  in  Egypt 
and  Asia  Minor,  Greece  was  herself  a  prey  to  the  stupid- 
est credulity.  Now,  when  science  does  not  succeed  in 
dominating  superstition,  superstition  will  throttle  sci- 
ence. Between  these  two  opponents,  the  duel  is  to  the 
death. 

Italy,  while  adopting  Greek  science,  had  for  a  time 
inspired  it  with  a  new  motive.  Lucretius  had  com- 
posed the  model  of  a  great  philosophic  poem  —  at  once 
a  hymn  and  a  blasphemy  —  which  induced  at  once 
calmness  and  despair,  pervaded  by  a  deep  feeling  of 
human  destiny  that  was  always  lacking  to  the  Greeks. 
True  children  as  they  were,  these  took  life  so  joyously 
that  they  never  thought  to  speak  ill  of  the  gods,  or  to 
regard  nature  as  unjust  and  treacherous  to  man.  More 
sombre  thoughts  came  to  light  among  the  Latin  philoso- 
phers ;  but  Rome  had  no  more  success  than  Greece  in 
making  science  the  basis  of  popular  education.  While 
Cicero,  with  fine  tact,  gave  complete  literary  form  to 
ideas  borrowed  from  the  Greeks,  —  while  Lucretius 
composed  his  astonishing  poem,  —  while  Ovid,  one  of 
the  most  charming  of  poets,  treated  the  most  venerable 
myths  like  an  elegant  free-thinker,  —  while  the  great 
Stoics  followed  out  the  Greek  philosophy  to  its  practi- 
cal results,  —  the  wildest  chimeras  found  belief,  and 

^  Apollonius  of  Pergamos,  Eratosthenes,  Aristarchus,  Hero,  Archimedes, 
Hipparchus,  Chrysippus,  Carneades,  Pansetius. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  271 

faith  in  the  marvellous  had  no  bounds.  Never  was 
there  a  period  more  busied  with  oracles  and  prodigies.^ 
The  fine  eclectic  theism  of  Cicero,  continued  and  com- 
pleted by  Seneca,^  remained  the  profession  of  a  few 
lofty  souls,  but  had  no  influence  whatever  upon  their 
time. 

Before  Vespasian,  the  Empire  had  nothing  that  could 
be  called  public  instruction.^  The  latest  in  this  kind 
was  hardly  more  than  dull  grammatical  exercises,  which 
rather  hastened  than  stayed  the  general  decline.  The 
last  years  of  the  Republic  and  the  reign  of  Augustus 
witnessed  one  of  the  finest  literary  movements  ever 
known.  But  after  the  death  of  this  great  emperor,  the 
decline  was  rapid,  nay,  even  abrupt.  The  cultivated 
intellectual  circle  of  Cicero,  Atticus,  Caesar,  Maecenas, 
Agrippa,  Pollio,  had  vanished  like  a  dream.  No  doubt 
there  were  still  enlightened  men  in  touch  with  the 
learning  of  their  time,  and  high  in  social  standing: 
such  were  the  Senecas,  and  the  literary  circle  of  which 
they  were  the  centre,  —  Lucilius,  Gallio,  and  Pliny. 
The  body  of  Roman  Law,  which  is  a  codifying  of  phi-  \y^ 
losophy  itself,  a  reduction  of  Greek  rational  theory  to 
practice,  continued  its  majestic  growth.  The  great 
Roman  families  had  preserved  a  fund  of  lofty  religion 
and  a  great  horror  of  superstition.*  The  geographers 
Strabo  and  Pomponius  Mela,  the  physician  and  encyclo- 
paedist Celsus,  the  botanist  Dioscorides,  the  jurist  Sem- 
pronius  Proculus,  were  men  of  solid  thought,  but  they 

1  Virg.  Ed.  iv.,  Geor.  L  463;  Hor.  Od.  i.  2;  Tac.  Ann.  vi.  12;  Suet. 
Aug.  31. 

2  De  Rep.  iii.  22,  in  Lact.  Inst.  div.  vi.  8 ;  Sen.  Ep.  31. 

8  Suet.  Vesp.  18  ;  Dion  Cass.  vol.  vi.  558  (ed.  Sturz)  ;  Euseb.  Chron.  89 ; 
Plin.  Ep.  i.  8;  Orelli,  1172  (p.  124). 
*  Fun.  disc,  on  Turia,  1.  30,  31. 


V 


272  THE  APOSTLES. 

were  only  exceptions.  Excepting  a  few  thousand  men  of 
intelligence,  the  world  was  swamped  in  a  complete  igno- 
rance of  natural  laws.^  Credulity  was  a  universal  epi- 
demic.^ Literary  culture  was  but  a  hollow  rhetoric, 
which  taught  nothing.  Larger  speculations  were  shut 
off  by  the  purely  practical  turn  that  philosophy  had 
taken.  Excepting  in  geography,  there  was  no  advance 
in  knowledge.  The  place  of  the  scientific  originator  was 
filled  by  the  instructed  and  lettered  amateur.  Here  the 
worst  fault  of  the  Romans  made  its  deadly  influence 
felt.  This  people,  so  grand  in  schemes  of  empire,  was 
dwarfed  in  mind.  The  ablest  of  the  Romans  —  Lucre- 
tius, Vitruvius,  Celsus,  Pliny,  Seneca  —  were  in  positive 
knowledge  but  pupils  of  the  Greeks  5  and  too  often 
it  was  but  second-rate  science  that  they  imperfectly 
copied, — as  we  see  in  Manilius,  Hyginus,  and  the  trans- 
lations of  Aratus.  Rome  never  had  a  great  scientific 
school,  and  the  reign  of  quackery  was  here  almost  un- 
checked. In  fine,  Latin  literature,  which  certainly  had 
some  fine  qualities,  did  not  flourish  long,  and  did  not 
spread  beyond  the  Western  world,  as  Cicero  himself 
declares  {^Arch.  10). 

Happily,  Greece  remained  true  to  her  genius.  She 
was  dazzled,  shut  off,  but  not  obliterated,  by  the  amaz- 
ing outburst  of  Roman  power.  In  fifty  years  she  re- 
newed her  conquest  of  the  world,  and,  seated  on  the 
throne  beside  the  Antonines,  was  again  the  mistress  of 
all  serious  minds.  But  the  present  is  a  weary  hour  for 
Greece  herself :  genius  is  rare  with  her ;  in  original  sci- 
ence she  is  inferior  to  what  she  was  in  the  centuries 

1  Val.  Max.  i. ;  Jul.  Obs.  on  prodigies ;  -ZEl.  Arist.  Disc.  Sacr. 

2  Even  Augustus  (Suet.  Aug.  90-92)  and  Julius  (Plin.  H.N.2S-A,7)] 
but  this  may  be  doubted. 


GENERAL  CONDITION  OF  THE   WORLD.  273 

before,  or  will  be  in  the  century  to  follow.  The  school 
of  Alexandria,  more  than  two  centuries  in  decline,  yet 
still  having  Sosigenes  in  Caesar's  time,  is  now  mute. 

From  Augustus  to  Trajan  we  must,  then,  recognise  a 
period  of  abasement  to  the  human  mind.  The  ancient 
world  had  not  yet  spoken  its  last  word ;  but  its  voice 
and  its  heart  were  quelled  by  the  cruel  strain  it  was 
now  enduring.  Let  better  days  come,  and  the  mind, 
set  free  from  the  baleful  rule  of  the  Caesars,  will  seem 
to  live  again.  The  nobler  days  of  Greece  will  return,  — 
not,  indeed,  that  inimitable  Greece  which  lived  once  for 
the  delight  and  despair  of  all  lovers  of  the  beautiful, 
but  a  Greece  still  rich  and  fertile,  which,  mingling  her 
own  gifts  with  those  of  Roman  genius,  will  bring  forth 
new  fruits  of  her  own  native  growth.-^ 

This  was  an  era  of  very  bad  taste.  The  greater 
Greek  writers  are  found  wanting,  while  the  Latins 
whom  we  know,  except  the  satirist  Persius,  are  without 
genius  and  commonplace.  All  was  spoiled  by  declama- 
tion. The  general  standard  of  literary  judgment  was 
much  what  it  is  now,  —  it  looked  only  for  brilliancy  of 
effect.  The  word  was  no  longer  the  simple  vesture  of 
the  thought,  elegant  only  as  it  perfectly  expressed  and 
fitted  that,  but  was  studied  for  its  own  sake.  The 
author  wrote  to  exhibit  himself;  at  a  public  reading, 
or  recitation,  merit  was  estimated  by  the  number  of 
phrases  that  called  out  applause.  The  great  maxim, 
that  all  in  art  should  serve  as  ornament,  but  that  all  is 
bad  which  is  specially  meant  for  ornament,  was  totally 
forgotten.      The  time  was,  if  you  will,  very  literary. 

1  The  new  intellectual  leaders  are  Epictetus,  Plutarch,  Dion  Chrysos- 
tom,  Pliny  the  Younger,  Juvenal,  Rufus  of  Ephesus,  Aretaeus,  Galen, 
Ptolemy,  Hypsicles,  Theon,  Lucian. 

18 


274  THE  APOSTLES. 

All  the  talk  was  of  eloquence,  of  good  style ;  yet  at 
bottom  almost  every  one  wrote  ill,  and  there  was  not  a 
single  good  orator,  for  a  good  orator  or  a  good  writer 
is  a  man  who  makes  a  trade  of  neither.  In  the  theatre 
the  chief  actor  had  all  the  attention,  and  the  drama 
was  suppressed  for  the  declamation  of  mere  show-pieces 
{cantica).  The  literary  temper  was  a  silly  dilettantism^ 
which  extended  even  to  the  emperor ;  a  stupid  vanity, 
which  made  it  every  one's  aim  to  display  his  wit. 
Hence  an  exceeding  insipidity,  with  long-winded  "  The- 
seids,"  plays  made  for  reading  in  a  coterie,  common- 
place versifying,  which  can  be  likened  only  to  the 
classic  epics  and  tragedies  of  sixty  years  ago. 

Stoicism  itself  could  not  escape  this  evil,  or  devise  a 
fair  form  for  its  doctrines,  before  Epictetus  and  Marcus 
Aurelius.  Strange  forms  of  tragedy,  in  truth,  are 
those  of  Seneca,  where  the  loftiest  sentiments  are 
uttered  in  the  tiresome  fashion  of  a  literary  charla- 
tan, showing  at  once  advance  in  ethical  thinking  and 
a  hopeless  decay  of  taste.  So  too  with  Lucan.  The 
mental  strain  of  the  extremely  tragic  situation  gener- 
ates a  swollen  style,  with  the  sole  care  to  shine  in  fine 
phrases.  Just  so  it  was  during  our  own  French  Revo- 
lution :  the  most  violent  crisis  of  all  history  succeeded 
in  producing  only  a  breed  of  declaimers  and  rhetoricians. 
We  must  not  stop  here.  New  thoughts  sometimes  take 
on  a  pretentious  mode  of  utterance.  Seneca's  style  is 
sober,  simple,  and  pure  when  compared  with  Augus- 
tine's. But  we  pardon  Augustine's  frequently  bad  style 
and  tasteless  conceits  for  the  sake  of  his  noble  thoughts. 

This  education,  at  all  events,  in  many  ways  noble 
and  distinguished,  did  not  find  its  way  to  the  people. 
This  would  have  been  a  small  evil  if  the  people  had 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  275 

had  some  religious  nurture,  sometliing  like  what  the 
most  forsaken  classes  among  us  find  in  the  Church. 
But  in  all  parts  of  the  Empire  religion  was  extremely 
debased.  Rome  was  quite  right  in  leaving  the  old 
worships  unharmed,  cutting  away  only  what  was  cruel, 
seditious,  or  harmful  to  the  others.^  She  had  spread  a 
sort  of  official  varnish  over  them  all,  bringing  them  to  a 
common  likeness,  and  lumping  them  together  for  better 
or  worse.  Unhappily  these  old  worships,  very  diverse 
in  origin,  had  one  thing  in  common,  —  it  was  alike 
impossible  for  them  to  devise  theological  instruction,  or 
a  helpful  style  of  address,  or  a  pastoral  ministration, 
of  real  benefit  to  the  people.  The  pagan  temple  was 
not  at  all  what  in  their  best  estate  the  synagogue  and 
church  have  been,  —  a  house  in  common,  a  school,  a 
place  of  shelter  and  hospitality,  whither  the  poor  may 
go  for  refuge.^  The  pagan  temple  was  a  cold,  bare 
room  {celld),  where  you  hardly  got  in,  and  learned 
nothing.  The  Roman  cult  was  perhaps  least  bad  of 
all  those  still  in  use.  At  least,  cleanness  of  heart  and 
person,  were  regarded  there  as  essential  to  religion.^  In 
sobriety,  decency,  severity,  this  cult  —  apart  from  some 
farcical  proceedings  like  our  carnival  —  was  superior  to 
the  strange  and  ludicrous  ceremonies  secretly  brought 
in  by  people  stricken  with  the  various  Oriental  lunacies. 
Still  it  strikes  us  as  childish,  the  affectation  of  the 
Roman  patrician,  in  distinguishing  "religion,"  that  is, 
his  own  cult,  from  '''  superstition,"  that  is,  a  foreign 
cult.*     All   pagan  worships  were   essentially  supersti- 

1  Suet.  Claud.  25;  Jos.  Ant.  six.  5:3. 

2  BeresTiith  rahba,  65:  65  6;  Du  Cange,  s.  v.  matricularius. 
8  Cic.  De  leg.  ii.  8 ;  Vopiscus,  Aur.  19. 

*  Thus,  religio  sine  superstitione  (fun.  disc,  on  Turia,  i.  30,  31 ;  comp. 
Plutarch,  De  superst.). 


276  THE  APOSTLES. 

tious.  The  peasant  who  to-day  puts  a  penny  in  the 
poor-box  of  a  miracle-mongering  chapel,  or  invokes  a 
special  saint  for  his  oxen  or  horses,  or  drinks  water 
of  a  certain  spring  in  certain  maladies,  is  so  far  forth  a 
pagan.  Almost  all  superstitions  among  us  are  survi- 
vals of  some  religion  anterior  to  Christianity,  which 
it  has  not  yet  quite  eradicated.  If  we  would  in  our 
day  find  a  true  picture  of  the  old  paganism,  it  would 
be  in  some  out-of-the-way  village  in  the  most  backward 
districts. 

The  pagan  worships,  being  protected  only  by  an 
unsteady  popular  tradition  and  the  priests'  hired  un- 
derlings, could  not  fail  to  degenerate  into  the  basest 
superstition.-^  Augustus  (though  with  reserve)  con- 
sented to  be  worshipped  in  his  own  lifetime  in  the 
provinces.'^  That  ignoble  rivalry  of  the  Asiatic  cities, 
which  contended  together  for  the  honour  of  erecting 
a  temple  to  Tiberius,  was  by  the  emperor's  command 
determined  in  his  own  presence.^  The  outrageous 
impieties  of  Caligula  *  led  to  no  reaction ;  outside  of 
Judaism,  there  was  not  one  priest  to  withstand  such 
insanities.  The  pagan  worships  had  their  roots  in  a 
primitive  worship  of  natural  powers,  changed  over  and 
over  by  foreign  mixtures,  or  by  the  popular  imagination, 
and  so  were  fettered  by  their  past.  A  pure  theism,  or 
any  moral  lesson,  could  not  be  got  out  of  them,  having 
never  been  in  them.      The  church  Fathers   make  us 

^  See  Melito,  "  Of  truth,"  in  Curetons  Spicil.  Syr.  ii.  41,  for  the  im- 
pression made  by  this  worship  on  Jews  and  Christians. 

2  Suet.  Aug.  52;  Dion  Cass.  li.  20;  Tac.  Ann.  i.  10;  Aur.  Vict.  Cces. 
1;  App.  B.  Civ.  V.  132;  Jos.  War,  i.  21:  2,  3,  4,  7;  Noris,  Cenot.  Pis.  i. 
4;  Kal.  Cum.  in  Corp.  inscr.  i.  310;  Eckhel,  Z)oc^  num.  re/.  2,  vi.  109,  124. 

8  Tac.  Ann.  iv.  55,  56 ;  Val.  Max.  prol. 

*  See  above,  p.  178. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE    WORLD.  277 

laugh  when  they  dilate  on  the  misdeeds  of  Saturn  as 
a  father,  or  of  Jupiter  as  a  husband.  But  surely  it 
was  far  more  ludicrous  to  exalt  Zeus  (the  heavenly 
aether)  into  a  moral  deity,  who  commands  and  forbids, 
rewards  and  punishes.  What  could  a  world  that  de- 
manded a  text-book  of  virtue  do  with  such  a  worship  as 
that  of  Venus,  which  had  arisen  from  the  social  needs  of 
early  Phoenician  voyagers  in  the  Levant,  but  had  grown 
by  time  into  an  outrage  upon  what  was  now  more  and 
more  felt  to  be  the  true  essence  of  religion  ? 

There  was  manifest,  in  short,  an  energetic  demand 
for  a  religion  which  should  be  the  worship  of  One  God, 
with  a  Divine  Law  as  the  basis  of  morality.  Thus 
there  came  a  time  when  society  would  no  longer  toler- 
ate the  cults  of  the  nature-religions,  which  were  de- 
graded to  mere  childish  follies,  or  the  contortions  of 
mountebanks ;  when  mankind  must  have  a  moral  and 
philosophic  creed.  To  this  demand  Buddhism  was  the 
response  in  India,  Zoroastrianism  in  Persia.  The  same 
thing  had  been  attempted,  with  no  lasting  result,  in 
the  Greek  world  through  Orphic  mysteries  and  the 
like.  At  the  date  we  have  now  reached,  the  whole 
world  was  confronted  by  the  same  problem,  which  was 
now  stated  with  an  impressive  unanimity,  and  on  a 
scale  of  imperial  magnitude. 

Greece,  it  is  true,  made  an  exception,  religious 
thought  being  here  less  depleted  than  elsewhere  in  the 
Empire.  Plutarch,  in  his  little  Boeotian  town,  still 
lived  in  his  Hellenic  faith,  tranquil  and  happy,  satisfied 
as  a  child,  and  with  a  perfectly  calm  religious  con- 
science. With  him  we  find  not  the  smallest  hint  of 
crisis,  or  heart-rending,  or  anxiety,  or  sense  of  a  coming 
revolution.     But  the  Greek  mind  alone  was  capable  of 


y^ 


278  THE  APOSTLES. 

SO  childlike  a  serenity.  Greece,  ever  self-satisfied  and 
self-sufficing,  proud  of  her  past  and  of  the  brilliant 
mythology  whose  shrines  were  all  within  her  borders, 
shared  not  the  inward  struggles  which  burdened  the 
rest  of  the  world.  She  alone  made  no  appeal  to  Chris- 
tianity ;  she  alone  preferred  to  pass  it  by,  claiming  to 
have  that  which  was  better.  Corinth,  the  only  city  in 
Greece  that  had  a  noticeable  Christian  element,  was  at 
this  period  not  a  city  of  Greeks.  This  was  due  to  that 
perpetual  youth,  that  love  of  country,  that  lightness  of 
heart,  which  have  always  been  marks  of  the  true  Greek 
spirit,  and  make  the  Greece  of  our  day  a  stranger  to  the 
deep  anxieties  that  undermine  our  peace.  Thus  the 
Hellenic  spirit  felt  itself  equal  to  the  task  of  attempt- 
ing a  revival  which  no  other  religion  of  the  Empire 
could  think  of  doing.  In  the  three  succeeding  centuries 
Hellenism  did,  in  fact,  as  "  Neo-Platonism,"  set  itself 
up  as  an  organised  religion,  having  for  doctrine  a  sort 
of  compound  of  mythology  with  Greek  philosophy ; 
and  this  —  with  its  wonder-working  philosophers  [Ploti- 
nus.  Porphyry,  and  lamblichus]  ;  with  its  spiritualistic 
trances,  or  "  ecstasies  " ;  with  its  ancient  sages  turned 
revealers,  and  its  legends  of  Pythagoras  and  Apollo- 
nius,  —  made  a  real  rival  to  Christianity;  and,  though 
impotent  to  survive,  yet  proved  the  most  dangerous 
obstruction  that  the  religion  of  Jesus  ever  met  upon 
its  path. 

But  it  was,  as  yet,  under  the  Caesars,  too  early  for 
such  an  attempt.  The  first  who  essayed  an  alliance  of 
philosophy  and  paganism  —  Euphrates  of  Tyre,  Apollo- 
nius  of  Tyana,  and  Plutarch  —  belong  to  the  end  of  the 
century.  Euphrates  of  Tyre  [about  A.  d.  120],  is  little 
known  to  us.     The  real  life  of  Apollonius  is  so  wrapped 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE   WORLD.  279 

in  legend  that  we  do  not  even  know  whether  to  rate 
him  as  a  philosopher,  a  religious  leader,  or  a  quack. 
Plutarch  is  not  so  much  an  original  thinker  as  a  well- 
balanced  mind  that  thinks  to  bring  the  world  to  harmony 
by  making  philosophy  timid  and  religion  half-reason- 
able. In  him  there  is  nothing  of  Porphyry  or  Julian. 
The  Stoic  attempts^  at  allegorical  interpretations  of 
old  myths  are  very  weak.  Mysteries,  like  those  of 
Bacchus  —  in  which  the  immortality  of  the  soul  was 
taught  by  graceful  symbols  ^  —  were  limited  to  par- 
ticular districts,  and  had  no  wide  influence.  Unbelief 
in  the  official  religion  was  common  in  the  educated 
class.^  Politicians,  who  chiefly  assumed  to  uphold  the 
State  religion,  would  jest  at  it  in  neat  phrases.*  The 
immoral  maxim  was  openly  maintained  that  religious 
fables  are  good  only  for  the  common  people  and  should 
be  kept  up  for  them.^  A  useless  precaution,  since  the 
popular  faith  itself  was  greatly  shaken.^ 

From  the  accession  of  Tiberius  a  religious  reaction 
may  be  perceived.  The  world  seems  terrified  at  the 
avowed  scepticism  of  the  first  imperial  reigns ;  and  in 
advance  of  Julian's  attempt,  every  superstition  is  forti- 
fied by  State  policy.'^     Valerius  Maximus  is  the  first 

1  Of  Heraclides  and  Cornutus :  Cic.  De  nat.  deorum,  iii.  23-25,  60, 
62-64. 

2  Plut.  Conaol.  10;  De  sera  num.  vind.22;  Heazey,  Miss,  de  Maced.  128; 
Rev.  archeol.  Apr.  1864,  p.  282. 

8  Lucret.  i.  63 ;  Sallust,  Cat.  52 ;  Cic.  N.  D.  ii.  24,  28 ;  De  divin.  ii. 
33,  35,  37;  De  har.  resp.;  Tusc.  i.  16  ;  Juv.  ii,  149-152;  Sen.  Epist.  24,  17. 

*  Sua  cuiqice  religio  est,  nostra  nobis ;  Cic.  Place.  28. 

6  Cic.  N.  D.  i.  30, 42 ;  Divin.  ii.  12,  33,  35,  72 ;  De  har.  resp.  6  ;  Liv.  i.  19 ; 
Curt.  iv.  10;  Plut.  De  plac.  phil.  i.  7:  2;  Diod.  Sic.  i.  2:  2;  Varro  (Aug. 
Civ.  Dei,  iv.  31,  32;  vi.  6) ;  Dion.  Halic.  ii.  20;  viii.  5;  Val.  Max.  i.  2. 

'  Cic.  Div.  ii.  15 ;  Juv.  ii.  449. 

■^  Tac.  Ann.  xi.  15;  Plin.  Ep.  x.  97;  Serapion  in  Plut.  De  Pyth.  orac. 
EI  at  Delphi ;  Val.  Max.  i.  (throughout). 


28o  THE  APOSTLES. 

instance  of  a  writer  of  low  degree  offering  aid  to  the- 
ologians in  distress,  putting  a  venal  or  sullied  pen  at 
the  service  of  religion.  But  the  chief  gainers  were  the 
foreign  faiths.  The  serious  reaction  in  favour  of  the 
Greco-Roman  cult  is  left  for  the  second  century.  At 
this  time  those  impelled  by  religious  anxieties  turn  to 
the  religions  of  the  East ;  Isis  and  Serapis  are  in  higher 
favour  than  ever.^  Impostors  of  all  sorts,  wonder- 
workers and  magicians  profit  by  the  demand,  and  sprout 
up  everywhere,  as  usual  when  and  where  the  State 
religion  is  weak.^  These  blunders  and  chimeras  were 
(so  to  speak)  a  prayer  of  the  Earth  in  labour ;  fruit- 
less efforts  of  a  world  seeking  a  rule  of  life,  and  in  its 
convulsive  strivings  bringing  forth  monstrous  births 
destined  soon  to  be  forgotten. 

In  short,  the  middle  of  the  first  century  is  one  of  the 
very  worst  periods  of  ancient  history.  Greek  and  Ro- 
man society  appears  declined  from  what  there  was 
before,  and  greatly  in  the  rear  of  that  which  follows. 
But  in  the  very  greatness  of  the  crisis  was  hidden  some 
formation  mysterious  and  strange.  Life  seems  to  have 
lost  its  motive ;  suicides  abound.^  No  century  had 
known  such  a  conflict  of  good  and  evil.  The  evil  was 
a  formidable  despotism  which  put  the  world  into  the 
hands  of  criminals  and  madmen  ;  it  was  the  corruption 
of  morals  resulting  from  the  importation  into  Rome  of 
the  vices  of  the  East ;  it  was  the  lack  of  a  good  re- 
ligion and  a  serious  public  instruction.     The  good  was, 

1  Juv.  vi.  489,  527;  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  85;  xi.  15;  Lucian,  Ass.  of  gods ; 
Tert.  Apol.  6 ;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  3:4;  Le  Bas,  Inscr.  v.  395, 

2  Plut.  Pyth.  25;  Lucian,  Alexander,  de  morte  Peregrini;  recall  the 
real  or  fabulous  examples  of  ApoUonius  of  Tyana,  Alexander  of  Abono- 
teichus,  Peregrinus,  and  Simon  Magus. 

8  Sen.  Ep.  12,  24,  70  ;  Insc.  at  Lanuvium,  Orelli,  4404. 


GENERAL   CONDITION  OF  THE   WORLD.  281 

on  the  one  hand,  Philosophy  fighting  open-breasted 
against  tyrants,  defying  monsters,  thrice  or  four  times 
proscribed  in  half  a  century,  —  under  Nero,  Vespasian, 
and  Domitian ;  on  the  other  hand,  that  effort  on  the 
part  of  popular  virtue,  those  genuine  aspirations  to  a 
better  religious  state,  the  impulse  toward  brotherhoods, 
a  monotheistic  worship,  the  reinstalment  of  the  poor, — 
all  these  chiefly  under  the  guise  of  Judaism  and  Chris- 
tianity. These  two  great  protests  were  far  from  being 
in  accord.  The  philosophic  and  the  Christian  party 
did  not  understand  each  other ;  and  they  were  so  little 
aware  of  the  common  end  they  were  both  striving  for 
that,  when  the  philosophic  party  came  to  power  with 
Nerva,  it  was  far  from  friendly  to  Christianity.  In 
truth,  the  Christian  purpose  was  far  more  radical. 
"When  the  Stoics  were  masters  of  the  Empire,  they 
reformed  it,  and  reigned  through  a  hundred  of  the 
most  beneficent  years  in  human  history.  When  the 
Christians  became  masters  of  the  Empire  with  Con- 
stantine,  they  completed  its  ruin.  Heroism  on  one  part 
should  not  blind  us  to  heroism  on  the  other.  Chris- 
tianity, always  unjust  to  pagan  virtues,  assumed  the 
task  of  disparaging  those  who  had  fought  the  same 
enemies  with  itself.  The  stand  taken  by  philosophy 
in  the  first  century  was  as  grand  as  that  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  but  how  unequally  were  they  rewarded !  The 
martyr  who  overthrew  the  idols  has  his  place  in  the 
Christian  martyrology.  Why  has  not  the  true  hero 
of  paganism  his  image  among  the  popular  heroe^  loved 
and  honoured  by  all  ?  —  Annseus  Cornutus,  who  openly 
told  Nero  that  the  tyrant's  books  were  inferior  to  those 
of  the  Stoic  Chrysippus ;  ^  Helvidius  Priscus,  who  said. 
1  Dion  Cass.  Ixii.  29. 


282  THE  APOSTLES. 

before  Vespasian,  "It  is  for  thee  to  kill,  for  me  to 
die ;"  ^  Demetrius  the  Cynic,  who  replied  to  Nero  when 
angry,  "  You  threaten  me  with  death,  but  Nature 
threatens  you  the  same."  ^  Is  humanity  so  rich  in 
the  forces  arrayed  against  vice  and  ignominy,  that 
each  school  of  virtue  may  freely  reject  the  aid  of  the 
others,  and  claim  to  itself  the  sole  right  to  be  valiant, 
high-tempered,  or  resigned  ? 

1  Arrian,  Epkt.  i.  2  :  21.  »  Ibid.  i.  25 :  22. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

LAWS   AFFECTING   RELIGION  —  A.  D.  45. 

The  Empire  in  the  first  century,  while  unfriendly  to 
the  religious  novelties  coming  from  the  East,  did  not  as 
yet  contend  against  them  by  any  fixed  policy.  The 
maxim  that  the  State  has  its  religion  was  quite  feebly 
upheld.  Foreign  rites  had  been  several  times  pro- 
scribed under  the  Republic,  particularly  those  of  Saba- 
zius  the  Phrygian,  Bacchus,  Isis  the  Egyptian,  and 
Serapis.^  This  was  wholly  useless.  The  people  were 
drawn  as  by  irresistible  attraction  to  these  worships.^ 
When  by  public  decree  the  temple  of  Isis  and  Serapis 
was  ordered  to  be  demolished  (a.  u.  c.  635),  a  work- 
man could  not  be  found  to  undertake  the  work,  and 
the  consul  was  obliged  to  break  in  the  door  with  an 
axe.^  Evidently  the  crowd  were  not  content  with  the 
Latin  ritual.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Cassar 
restored  these  fanes  to  humour  the  popular  desires.* 

With  his  own  profound  and  liberal  mental  grasp, 
this  great  man  thus  proved  himself  in  favour  of  com- 
plete liberty  of  conscience.^  Augustus  was  more  con- 
stant  to   the   national  religion.^      He   was   prejudiced 

1  Val.  Max.  i.  3;  Liv.  xxxix.  8-18;  Cic.  Leg.  ii.  8;  Dion.  Hal.  ii.  20; 
Dion  Cass.  xl.  47 ;  xlii.  26 ;  Tert.  Apol.  6 ;  Adv.  nat.  i.  10. 

2  Prop.  iv.  1 :  17  ;  Luc»  viii.  831 ,  Dion  Cass,  xlvii.  15;  Arnob.  ii.  73. 
8  Val.  Max.  i.  3  : 3. 

*  Dion  Cass,  xlvii.  15. 

6  Jos.  xiv.  10  ;  Cic.  Flacc.  28. 

«  Suet.  Aug.  31,  93;  Dion  Cass.  lii.  36. 


284  THE  APOSTLES, 

against  the  Eastern  rites  ;  he  even  forbade  the  practice 
of  Egyptian  ceremonies  in  Italy ;  ^  but  he  insisted  that 
each  religion,  the  Jewish  in  particular,  should  be  mas- 
ter in  its  own  country.^  He  exempted  Jews  from  any- 
thing that  could  offend  their  conscience,  in  particular, 
any  civil  action  on  the  Sabbath.^  Some  of  those  about 
him  had  less  tolerance,  and  w^ould  have  made  him  a  re- 
ligious persecutor  to  the  benefit  of  the  Latin  cult,*  but 
to  these  evil  counsels  he  seems  not  to  have  given  way. 
Josephus  (perhaps  with  some  straining  of  the  truth) 
holds  that  he  made  gifts  of  sacred  vessels  to  the  temple 
at  Jerusalem.^ 

Tiberius  was  the  first  to  lay  down  clearly  the  maxim 
of  a  religion  of  State,  and  to  oppose  serious  checks  to 
Jewish  and  Oriental  propaganda.^  The  emperor,  it 
should  be  borne  in  mind,  was  the  chief  pontiff;  and  in 
protecting  the  old  Roman  worship,  he  might  seem  to 
be  merely  discharging  an  official  duty.  Caligula  can- 
celled the  edicts  of  Tiberius,  but  his  insanity  permitted 
no  consecutive  policy.  Claudius  seems  to  have  con- 
tinued the  policy  of  Augustus :  he  confirmed  the  Latin 
ritual,  gave  much  attention  to  the  progress  of  foreign 
religions,  was  severe  toward  the  Jews,  and  sharply 
prosecuted  the  "  brotherhoods." '  In  Judcea,  on  the 
other  hand,  his  policy  was  friendly  to  the  Jews.^     The 

1  Dion  Cass.  liv.  6.  ^  jgg  A.nt.  xvi.  6. 

8  Ihid.  xvi.  6:2.  *  Dion  Cass.  lii.  36. 

6  Jos.  War,  V.  13  :  6;  Suet.  Aug.  93. 

^  Suet.  Tib.  36  ;  Tac.  Ann.  ii.  85;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  3  :4,  5  ;  Philo,  Flacc. 
1 ;  Leg.  24;  Sen.  Ep:  108  :  22.  We  need  not  discuss  seriously  the  alleged 
intention  of  Tiberius  to  put  Jesus  Christ  on  tlie  list  of  gods,  stated  by 
Tertullian  (Apol.  5),  and  repeated  by  other  ecclesiastical  writers. 

'  Dion  Cass.  Ix.  6;  Tac.  Ann.  xi.  15;  Suet.  Claud.  25;  Acts  xviii.  2. 

8  Jos.  Ant.  xix.  5 : 2  ;  XX.  6  :  3  ;  War,  ii.  12  :  7. 


LAfVS  AFFECTING  RELIGION.  285 

personal  favour  enjoyed  at  Rome  by  the  Agrippas  under 
these  two  reigns  ensured  a  powerful  protection  to  their 
co-religionists,  except  as  against  breaches  of  the  public 
peace. 

Nero  gave  little  heed  to  questions  of  religion.^  His 
hateful  acts  against  the  Christians  proceeded  from  fe- 
rocity of  temper,  not  maxims  of  policy.^  Alleged  cases 
of  persecution  in  Roman  society  at  this  time  were  due 
less  to  public  than  to  family  authority ;  ^  and  besides, 
such  things  occurred  only  in  the  noble  houses  that  were 
true  to  the  old  traditions.*  Each  province  was  perfectly 
free  to  follow  its  own  religion,  on  condition  of  not  mo- 
lesting others.^  Provincials  in  Rome  had  the  same  right, 
in  case  they  made  no  open  scandal.  Druidism  and 
Judaism,  the  only  two  religions  assailed  by  the  Empire 
in  the  first  century,  were  bulwarks  of  old  nationalities. 
Every  one  assumed  that  the  profession  of  Judaism  was 
a  mark  of  contempt  for  civil  law  and  indifference  to 
the  welfare  of  the  State  ;^  as  long  as  it  consented  to  be 
simply  a  personal  faith,  there  was  no  persecution.  Pen- 
alties denounced  against  the  worship  of  Serapis  came 
perhaps  from  its  monotheist  guise,  which  caused  it  to 
be  ranked  along  with  the  Jewish  and  Christian  creeds.'^ 

1  Suet.  Nero,  56. 

2  Tac.  Ann.  xv.  44 ;  Suet.  Nero,  16.  This  will  be  further  considered 
hereafter.     See  "  Antichrist." 

8  Tac.  Ann.  xiii.  32. 

*  Dion  Cass.  (Xiph .)  Domit.  (end) ;  Suet.  Dom.  15 ;  see  the  formal  dis- 
tinction in  Digest,  xlvii.  22  :1,  3. 

6  Cic.  Flacc.  28 ;  see  Acts  xvi.  20,  21 ;  xviii.  13. 

«  Cic.  Flacc.  28;  Juv.  xiv.  100;  Tac.  Hist.  v.  4,  5;  Plin.  Ep.  x.  97; 
Dion  Cass.  lii.  36  ;  Jos.  War,  vii.  5  :  2. 

'  ^1.  Arist.  Pro  Scrap.  53;  Julian,  Or.  iv.  136;  Leblant :  Bull,  de  la 
Soc.  des.  Antiq.  1859,  pp.  191-195  (on  certain  sculptured  stones).  Tac. 
Ann.  ii.  85;  Suet.  Tib.  36;  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  3:4,  5;  Adrian,  Ep.  in  Vo- 
piscus,  Vit.  Saturn.  8 ;  Dion  Cass,  xxxvii.  17. 


286  THE  APOSTLES. 

Thus  in  the  time  of  the  apostles,  there  was  no  stat- 
ute-law against  the  profession  of  a  monotheistic  faith. 
Such  faiths,  until  the  coming-in  of  the  Sj^ian  emperors, 
were  always  watched ;  but  it  was  not  till  the  time  of 
Trajan  that  they  were  persecuted  on  system,  as  hostile 
to  the  others,  as  intolerant,  and  as  implying  the  nega- 
tion of  the  State.  In  a  word,  what  the  Empire  made 
war  against  was  theocracy.  Its  maxim  was,  a  secular 
State ;  it  did  not  consent  that  a  religion  should  involve 
any  civil  or  political  consequences  whatever ;  especially 
it  did  not  tolerate  any  association,  within  the  State, 
above  or  independent  of  the  State.  This  is  the  essen- 
tial point :  it  is,  in  fact,  the  root  of  every  persecution. 
The  fatal  source  of  the  violent  acts  that  dis^i^race  the 
reigns  of  the  best  emperors  was  not  religious  intoler- 
ance, but  the  policy  of  suppressing  secret  societies 
(''brotherhoods  "). 

Greece  was  in  advance  of  Eome,  as  in  all  matters  of 
taste  and  delicacy,  so  in  the  matters  of  associations. 
The  Greek  brotherhoods  {eranoi,  thiasoi)  of  Athens, 
Rhodes,  and  the  Archipelago,  had  been  excellent  as- 
sociations for  mutual  help,  credit,  fire-insurance,  acts 
of  piety,  or  innocent  enjoyment.^  Each  society  (epavos) 
had  its  rules  graven  on  marble  slabs,  its  records,  and  its 
common  chest  supplied  by  assessments  or  voluntary 
gifts.  The  members  [eranists  or  tJiiasites)  kept  certain 
holidays  together,  and   met  for  banquets  full  of   cor- 


1  See  inscr.  in  Rev.  archeol,  Nov.  1864,  p.  397;  Dec.  1864,  p.  460; 
June,  1865,  pp.  451,  452,  497,  498;  Sept.  1865,  214,  215;  Apr.  1866; 
Ross,  inscr.  gr.  ii.  282,  291,  292 ;  Hamilton,  Res.  in  Asia  Minor,  ii.  301  ; 
Corp.  inscr.  gr.  120,  126,  2525,  2562;  Rhangab^,  Ant.  hell.  811;  Henzen, 
6082  ;  Virg.  Eel.  v.  30 ;  Harpocr.  Lex.  s.  v.  epavi<TTT}s ;  Festus  :  thiasitas  • 
Dig.  47  :  22 ;  Plin.  Ep.  x.  93,  94. 


LAWS  AFFECTING  RELIGION.  287 

diality.^  A  member  in  straits  for  money  could  borrow 
of  the  common  fund  with  obligation  to  repay.  Women 
might  be  members,  with  their  separate  prescribing  offi- 
cer {proeranistria).  The  meetings  were  strictly  private, 
in  which  order  was  enforced  by  strict  rules ;  and  they 
seem  to  have  been  held  in  closed  gardens,  surrounded 
by  porches  or  low  structures,  while  an  altar  for  sacrifice 
stood  in  the  midst.^  Each  society,  again  had  a  body 
of  officers  annually  chosen  by  lot  {kXtjpcotol),  like  the 
old  Greek  democracies,  from  whom  the  Christian  chyf/ 
(clerus)  may  have  taken  their  name.^  Only  the  presi- 
dent was  elected.  These  officers  subjected  the  applicant 
to  some  sort  of  test,  and  had  to  certify  that  he  was 
*'  pious,  righteous,  and  good."  *  During  the  two  or 
three  centuries  before  our  era  there  was  a  movement 
among  these  societies  like  that  which  led  to  the  found- 
ing of  so  many  religious  orders,  or  sub-orders.  As 
many  as  nineteen  were  reckoned  in  the  island  of 
Khodes  alone,^  several  bearing  the  names  of  the  foun- 
ders or  revivers.  Some,  especially  those  of  Bacchus, 
had  elevated  doctrines,  intended  to  give  comfort  to 
"  men  of  good  will."  If  some  little  love,  piety,  and 
devout  morality  still  survived  among  the  Greeks,  it  was 

1  Arist.  Eth.  Nic.  viii.  9:5;  Plut.  Greek  Questions,  44. 

2  "VVescher,  Arch,  des  miss,  scient.  ser.  2:  i.  432;  Rev.  arch.,  Sept.  1865, 
221,  222;  Arist.  (Ekonom.  ii.  3;  Strabo,  ix.  1:15;  Corp.  inscr.  gr.  2271, 
13,  14. 

®  KX^po? :  the  ecclesiastical  etymology  is  different,  and  implies  some 
allusion  to  the  post  held  by  the  tribe  of  Levi,  but  the  word  was  probably 
borrowed  as  above  (Acts  i.  25,  26  ;  1  Pet.  v.  3 ;  Clera.  Alex,  in  Eus.  iii. 
23).  The  Greek  societies  had  also  an  overseer  (episcopus:  Rev.  arch.  Apr. 
1886,  216;  Pollux,  ix.  8:143),  and  were  sometimes  called  synagogues 
(see  above,  chap.  v.). 

*  Corp.  inscr.  gr.  126 ;  Rev.  arch.  Sept.  1865,  215. 

6  Rev.  arch.  Dec.  1864,  460. 


288  THE  APOSTLES. 

due  to  the  liberty  of  these  private  worships,  which 
made  a  sort  of  rivalry  with  the  official  religion,  that 
was  manifestly  declining  day  by  day. 

At  Rome  similar  associations  met  more  obstacles,^ 
but  no  less  favour  among  the  poorer  classes.  Roman 
policy  as  to  them  was  first  set  forth  under  the  Republic, 
in  dealing  with  the  Bacchanals  (b.  c.  186).  The  Ro- 
mans were  naturally  much  inclined  to  these  friendly 
societies,  particularly  to  such  as  were  religious ;  ^  but 
permanent  associations  of  this  character  were  displeas- 
ing to  the  patrician  holders  of  public  authority,  who, 
in  their  dry  and  narrow  notion  of  life,  accepted  no 
social  groups  but  the  Family  and  the  State.  The  most 
minute  precautions  were  taken ;  a  permit  must  be 
previously  granted ;  the  number  of  members  was  pre- 
scribed; there  must  be  no  permanent  master  of  cere- 
monies (magister  sacrorum),  nor  a  common  fund  to  be 
raised  by  subscription.^  The  same  anxious  jealousy 
reappears  at  intervals  under  the  Empire ;  the  body  of 
laws  contained  texts  for  every  form  of  repression,* 
which  might  be  used  or  not  at  will.  A  proscribed 
worship  might  reappear  within  a  few  years.^  Foreign 
immigration,  too,  especially  from  Syria,  constantly 
renewed  the  material  from  which  these  vainly  resisted 
faiths  were  fed. 

It  is  amazing  to  see  how  the  strongest  heads  were 

-  ^  What  these  were  among  the  Greeks,  see  inscr,  in  Rev.  arch.,  Dec. 
1864,  462. 

2  See  Digest,  xlvii.  22  ;  De  coll.  et  corp.  4. 

*  Dion  Cass.  lii.  36 ;  Ix.  6 ;  Liv.  xxxix.  8-18 ;  see  decree  in  Corp. 
inscr.  lat.  1.  43,  44 ;  Cic.  Leg.  ii.  8. 

*  Cic.  Sext.  25;  In  Pis.  4;  Ascon.  In  Corn.  75  (Orelli);  In  Pison.  7,  8; 
Dion  Cass,  xxxviii.  13,  14 ;  Dig.  lii.  4 ;  xlvii.  22. 

s  Suet.  Dom.  1 ;  Dion  Cass,  xlvii.  15;  be  6 ;  Ixvi.  24  j  Tert.  and  Arnob. 
(as  above). 


LAWS  AFFECTING  RELIGION.  289 

disturbed  by  a  matter  that  looks  so  insignificant.  It 
was  a  chief  care  with  Julius  and  Augustus  to  prevent  the 
forming  of  new  societies  {collegia)  and  to  abolish  those 
already  existing.^  A  decree,  passed  apparently  under 
Augustus,  tried  to  define  clearly  the  limits  of  the  right 
of  association,  and  these  were  very  narrow.  The  col- 
legia must  be  strictly  burial-societies.  They  could  meet 
only  once  a  month;  they  might  attend  only  to  the 
burial  of  deceased  members;  and  under  no  pretext 
could  they  enlarge  the  range  of  their  functions.^  The 
Empire  was  striving  for  the  impossible.  Following  up 
its  exaggerated  notion  of  the  State,  it  sought  to  isolate 
the  individual,  to  break  every  moral  tie  among  men, 
to  contend  against  a  just  desire  of  the  poor  —  that  of 
shutting  themselves  in  together,  to  keep  one  another 
warm.  In  ancient  Greece  the  city  was  very  tyrannical ; 
but,  in  exchange  for  its  petty  vexations,  it  gave  so 
much  pleasure,  brightness,  and  glory,  that  no  one 
thought  of  making  a  complaint.  Her  children  died 
for  her  with  joy,  and  underwent  her  most  unjust  ca- 
prices without  a  murmur.  The  Roman  Empire  was 
too  vast  to  be  a  fatherland.  It  offered  great  material 
advantages  to  all,  but  gave  nothing  to  win  their  love. 
The  unendurable  gloom  of  such  a  life  seemed  worse 
than  death. 

Thus,  notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  of  men  in 
power,  the  associations  widely  throve  and  flourished. 
They  made  an  exact  parallel  to  the  guilds  and  brother- 
hoods of  the  Middle  Age,  with  their  patron  saint  and 
their  festivals  in  common.     Great  families  had  a  great 

1  Suet.  Jul.  42;  Aug.  32;  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  10 : 8;  Dion  Cass.  lii.  36. 

2  Inscr.  of  Lanuvium :  Mommsen,  De  coll.,  etc.,  81,  82 ;  Digest,  xlvii.  22 ; 
Tert.  Apol.  39. 

19 


290  THE  APOSTLES. 

name  to  care  for,  had  their  country  and  their  tradition ; 
but  the  poor  and  lowly  had  nothing  but  their  brother- 
hood {collegium).  In  this  was  all  their  joy.  All  author- 
ities show  us  these  societies  and  clubs  (coetus)  as  made 
of  slaves,  veterans,  and  people  of  small  means  {tenu- 
lores)}  In  these  was  full  equality  as  between  the  free- 
born  and  freedmen  or  those  in  servile  condition ;  and 
many  women  were  included.^  A  thousand  annoyances 
might  be  risked,  or  the  sharpest  penalties;  still  they 
were  eager  to  join  some  one  of  these  associations,  in 
which  they  lived  in  pleasant  fraternal  fashion,  found 
mutual  aid  and  comfort,  and  entered  into  relations  that 
did  not  end  even  with  death .^  The  place  of  meeting 
[schola  collegii)  commonly  had  a  porch  on  four  sides 
{tetrastyle)'^  in  which,  beside  the  altar  to  the  Divine 
protector,  were  posted  the  rules  of  the  society,  and  a 
dining-table  {triclinium)  for  the  banquet.  These  ban- 
quets were  impatiently  looked  forward  to;  they  took 
place  on  the  festal  day  of  the  Protector  or  on  the  anni- 
versary-day of  some  generous  founder.  Each  brought 
his  share  in  a  little  basket ;  and  the  members  in  turn 
furnished  the  accompaniments,  such  as  couches,  table- 
furniture,  bread,  wine,  relishes  {sardines),  and  hot  water.^ 
A  large  jar  {amphora)  of  fine  wine  was  due  from  a 

1  Inscr.  Lan.  2:3,7;  Dig.  47 :  11,  22  (Dc  coll.  et  corp.  1,  3). 

8  Heuzey,  Miss,  de  Maced.  71 ;  Orelli,  4093,  2409 ;  Melchiorri  et  Vis- 
con  ti,  Silloge  c?'  iscriz.  ant.  6. 

'  See,  concerning  the  collegia  of  ^sculapius  and  Hygeia,  of  Jupiter 
Cernenus,  Diana,  and  Antinous,  Mommsen,  pp.  93,  96,  113,  114;  Orelli, 
1710,  2394,  2395,  2413,  4075,  4079,  4107,  4207,  4938,  5044;  Rossi  Bull, 
di  arch,  crist.  ii.  8. 

*  Inscr.  Lan.  i.  6,  7 ;  Orelli,  2270,  4420 ;  Rossi,  ii.  11-13. 

6  Inscr.  Lan.  1 :  3-9,  21 ;  2  :  7-17;  Momrasen  {Neap.)  2559 ;  De  coll.  et 
sod.  109,  113;  Marini,  Atti,  398;  Muratori,  491,  7;  1  Cor.  xi.  20-32;  the 
leader  in  Christian  assemblies  was  called  thiasarch  (Lucian,  Peregr.  11). 


LAWS  AFFECTING  RELIGION.  291 

newly  emancipated  slave.-^  The  banquet  was  enlivened 
by  mild  gaiety ;  it  was  an  express  rule  that  no  business 
of  the  society  should  be  discussed,  that  nothing  might 
disturb  the  short  respite  of  gaiety  and  repose  which 
these  poor  people  managed  to  secure.  Every  act  of 
rudeness  or  unpleasant  word  was  punished  by  a  fine.^ 

In  outward  appearance,  these  collegia  were  only  joint- 
stock  burial  societies.^  This  was  needed  to  assure  the 
morality  of  their  intent.  In  the  Roman  period,  as  at 
all  times  when  the  power  of  religion  is  lessened,  rev- 
erence for  graves  is  almost  the  only  remaining  form  of 
popular  piety.  One  was  glad  to  think  that  he  should  not 
be  cast  into  the  horrible  common  pit,*  that  his  burial 
would  be  cared  for  by  the  society,  and  that  the  brothers 
who  came  on  foot  to  the  grave  would  receive  the  petty 
fee  {funeraticmm)  of  about  five  cents.  A  slave,  espe- 
cially, needed  to  believe  that,  in  case  his  master  should 
cast  his  body  on  the  refuse-heap,  there  would  be  friends 
to  render  the  due  image-rites.^  The  poor  man,  once  a 
month,  would  put  his  penny  in  the  common  box,  so  as 
to  ensure,  after  his  death,  a  little  urn  in  a  columbarmm 
[the  collection  of  "  pigeon-holes  "  for  such  urns],  with 
a  slab  of  marble  bearing  his  name.  Burial  among  the 
Romans  was  closely  connected  with  the  family  rites 
{sacra  gentilitia),  and  thus  was  held  to  be  of  extreme 
importance.  Persons  buried  together  thus  attained  a 
certain  tie  of  brotherhood  or  kinship.^ 

1  Inscr.  Lan.  2  : 7. 

2  Ibid.  2  :  24,  26-29  ;  insc.  gr.  126. 

8  Orelli,  2399,  2400,  2405,  4093,  4103  ;  Mommsen,  De  coll.  97.     Comp. 
the  little  burial-places  held  now  at  Rome  by  similar  societies. 
4  Hor.  Sat.  i.  8 : 8. 
6  Inscr.  Lan.  1 :  24,  25,  32;  2  :  3-5. 
«  Cic.  Off.  1.  47 ;  Arch.  x.  1  (schol.) ;  Plut.  Defrat.  am.  7 ;  Digest,  xlvii. 


292  THE  APOSTLES. 

Thus  Christianity  at  Eome  long  presented  the  like- 
ness of  a  burial-society,  and  the  first  Christian  shrines 
were  the  tombs  of  martyrs.*  If  it  had  been  only  that, 
it  would  not  have  provoked  such  severities.  But  it 
was  much  more  than  that :  it  had  its  common  funds  ;  ^ 
it  claimed  a  complete  civic  constitution ;  it  felt  itself 
assured  of  the  future.  When  on  Saturday  evening  we 
enter  the  enclosure  of  a  Greek  church  in  Turkey, — 
for  instance,  that  of  St.  Photini  at  Smyrna,  —  we  are 
struck  with  the  power  of  these  committee-religions 
in  the  heart  of  a  persecuting  or  at  least  hostile  com- 
munity. The  irregular  piling  together  of  buildings 
(church,  presbytery,  school,  and  prison),  —  the  faithful 
going  to  and  fro  in  their  little  pent-up  town ;  the 
freshly  opened  tombs,  each  with  its  lighted  lamp,  giv- 
ing out  a  deathly  odour,  at  once  damp  and  mouldy ; 
the  low  murmur  of  prayers,  the  appeals  for  charity, — 
all  these  make  together  an  atmosphere  warm  and  soft, 
which  may  be  at  times  oppressive  to  a  stranger,  but  is 
doubtless  soothing  to  those  who  find  in  it  the  atmo- 
sphere of  their  religious  home. 

The  associations  we  have  considered,  when  once 
secured  by  a  special  charter,  had  all  the  rights  of 
civil  persons  at  Rome.^  But  permission  was  not 
granted  without  numberless  reservations  when  there 
was  a  common  fund,  or  when  anything  besides  burial 

22  {Be call,  et  corp.).  In  an  inscription  at  Rome,  the  endower  of  a  burial- 
place  stipulates  that  those  there  interred  shall  be  of  his  religion  (Rossi, 
Bull.  iii.  7:54). 

1  Tert.  Ad  Scap.Z;  Rossi,  iii.  12. 

2  Just.  Apol.  i.  67 ;  Tert.  Apol.  39. 

8  Ulp./r.  22:6;  Digest,  S :  i ;  46:1;  47:2,  21,  22  (De  collet  Corp.); 
Gruter,  322  :  3,  4  ;  424  :  12  ;  Orelli,  4080;  Marini,  95;  Muratori,  516  : 1; 
Sac.  des  Antiq.  de  Fr.  1,  Mem.  xx.  78, 


LAH^S  AFFECTING  RELIGION.  293 

was  had  in  view.^  Any  pretext  of  religion  or  the 
fulfilment  of  a  common  vow  is  anticipated  and  for- 
mally denoted  as  illegal ;  ^  a  direct  affront  to  the  su- 
preme power  (an  offence  of  the  nature  of  treason),  at 
least  in  the  original  founder  of  the  society.^  Clau- 
dius went  so  far  as  to  close  the  eating-houses  where 
such  meetings  were  held,  and  to  prohibit  the  places  of 
refreshment  where  poor  people  could  buy  cheaply  hot 
water  and  broth.*  The  best  emperors,  including  Trajan, 
regarded  all  such  associations  with  suspicion.^  Those 
to  whom  the  right  was  granted  must  be  of  very  humble 
life,  and  even  then  it  was  with  many  restrictions.® 
Those  who  codified  the  Roman  laws,  while  eminent 
as  jurists,  showed  how  ignorant  they  were  of  human 
nature  by  incessantly  prosecuting  an  eternal  need  of 
the  soul,  even  with  threats  of  death,  and  restricting  it 
by  all  manner  of  hateful  or  childish  precautions/  Like 
the  compilers  of  the  modern  Civil  Code,  they  were  as 
cold  as  death  in  their  conception  of  life.  If  life  con- 
sisted in  amusing  one's  self  by  word  of  command,  in 
eatinoj  one's  bit  of  bread  and  takinor  one's  diversion  in 
the  ranks,  under  the  e}'e  of  his  commanding  officer, 
this  conception  of  it  might  be  intelligible.  But  a  com- 
munity that  lets  itself  be  governed  by  this  false  and 

1  Digest,  xlvii.  22  (throughout) ;  Inscr.  Lan.  1  :  10-13  ;  Marini,  Atti, 
552;  Muratori,  520  :  G ;  Orelli,  4075,  4115, 1567,  2797,  3140,  3913;  Henzen, 
6633,  6745  ;  Mommsen,  p.  80  et  seq. 

2  Digest,  47: 11;  De  extr.  crim.  2. 
8  Ibid.  47:22;  48:4. 

*  Dion  Cass.  Ix.  6;  Suet.  Nero,  16. 

6  See  the  correspondence  in  Plin.  Ep.  x.  43,  93,  94,  97,  98. 

«  See  Digest,  47 :  22;  Plin.  Ep.  x.  94;  Tert.  Apol.  39. 

'  Dig.  1:12;  1:14;  3:4;  47:20;  34  :  5,  20;  40  :  3,  1 ;  47:22,  1; 
Mommsen,  127 ;  Marcus  Aurelius,  on  the  other  hand,  enlarged  the  liberty 
of  association  as  far  as  he  could. 


294  THE  APOSTLES. 

narrow  notion  finds  its  penalty,  first  in  a  weariness  of 
life  itself  [ennui),  and  then  in  the  violent  triumph  of 
the  religious  reaction.  Man  will  never  willingly  breathe 
that  icy  air ;  he  must  have  the  little  secluded  quarter, 
where  he  and  his  may  live  and  die  together.  Our  great 
political  communities  are  not  competent  to  respond  to 
all  the  social  instincts  of  mankind.  Let  one  set  his 
heart  on  something,  seek  his  solace  where  he  may  find 
it,  gather  brothers  about  him,  and  form  a  fellowship  of 
hearts.  Let  not  the  cold  hand  of  the  State  intervene 
in  this  realm  of  souls,  which  is  the  realm  of  freedom. 
Life  and  joy  will  not  be  reborn  in  the  world  until  the 
distrust  of  associations,  our  sad  inheritance  from  the 
Eoman  law,  has  passed  away.  The  capital  question  for 
the  future  is  that  of  association  without  the  State, 
which  shall  not  be  the  ruin  of  the  State.  The  law  of 
the  future  as  to  this  will  decide  whether  the  modern 
world  will  or  will  not  have  the  fate  of  the  ancient. 
One  example  should  be  enough :  the  Roman  Empire 
staked  its  existence  on  the  law  as  to  illicit  clubs,  illicit 
associations.  Christian  and  barbarian  broke  down  that 
law,  so  doing  the  work  of  the  human  conscience.  The 
Empire  which  staked  its  existence  on  that  law  went 
down  with  it. 

The  Greek  and  Roman  world,  a  world  secular  and 
profane,  which  knew  nothing  of  the  priest,  which  had 
no  divine  law  and  no  book  of  revealed  truth,  here  met 
a  problem  that  it  could  not  solve.  And  further,  if  it 
had  had  priests,  a  strict  theology,  a  religion  strongly 
organized,  it  would  not  have  created  the  secular  State, 
or  inaugurated  the  idea  of  a  rational  society,  founded 
on  simple  human  needs,  and  on  the  natural  relations  of 
men  with  one  another.     That  the  Greeks  and  Romans 


LAIVS  AFFECTING  RELIGION.  295 

were  religiously  so  inferior  was  because  they  were  polit- 
ically and  intellectually  superior.  Judaism  and  primi- 
tive Christianity  held  in  themselves  the  overthrow,  or 
rather  the  putting  under  guardianship,  of  the  political 
community.  As  in  Islamism,  so  with  them,  society  was 
built  upon  religion.  If  we  take  hold  upon  human 
affairs  from  that  direction,  we  establish  great  systems 
of  universal  conversion  ;  we  have  apostles  who  run  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth  with  the  purpose  of  converting 
it.  But  we  do  not  build  political  institutions,  or 
found  national  independence,  or  create  a  dynasty,  a 
code,  or  a  people. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  FUTURE   OF   MISSIONS.  —  A.  D.  45, 

We  have  now  briefly  surveyed  the  condition  of  the 
world  which  Christian  missionaries  had  taken  in  hand 
to  convert.  We  may  now  see,  as  I  think,  that  the  task 
was  not  one  of  unreason,  and  that  its  success  was  not 
a  miracle.  The  world  was  toilworn  by  moral  needs, 
which  found  an  admirable  response  in  the  new  religion. 
Manners  were  softening ;  a  purer  worship  was  in  de- 
mand ;  the  thought  of  Human  Rights,  of  social  ame- 
lioration, was  gaining  ground  on  all  sides.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  general  mind  was  extremely  credulous  ; 
the  number  of  trained  intelligences  was  very  small. 
If  apostles  of  ardent  conviction  —  Jews,  worshippers  of 
one  God,  disciples  of  Jesus,  penetrated  by  the  most 
persuasive  moral  discourse  that  the  ear  of  man  had  ever 
heard  —  if  such  messengers  come  before  such  a  world, 
they  will  surely  have  a  hearing.  The  dreams  and 
visions  mingled  in  their  instruction  will  do  no  harm : 
there  are  very  few  who  do  not  already  believe  in  the 
supernatural ;  and,  if  the  hearers  are  humble  and  poor, 
so  much  the  better.  Mankind,  at  this  crisis,  cannot  be 
saved  but  by  a  movement  that  comes  from  the  heart  of 
the  people.  The  old  pagan  religions  are  past  reforming ; 
the  Roman  State  is  what  it  always  will  be,  —  stiff,  dry, 
upright,  and  unyielding.  In  a  world  perishing  for  lack 
of  love,  the  future  is  assured  to  him  who  shall  touch 


THE  FUTURE   OF  MISSIONS.  297 

the  living  spring  of  popular  piety.  Greek  liberalism 
and  the  old  Roman  gravity  are  to  that  end  alike  and 
utterly  powerless. 

The  founding  of  Christianity  is,  in  this  view,  the 
grandest  work  that  was  ever  accomplished  by  the  com- 
mon people.  It  is  true  that  some  men  and  women  of 
the  highest  families  very  early  connected  themselves 
with  the  Church.  Toward  the  end  of  the  first  century 
Flavins  Clemens  and  Flavia  Domitilla  show  us  Chris- 
tianity as  already  domiciled,  almost,  in  the  palace  of 
the  Caesars.^  From  the  time  of  the  first  Antonines 
[a.  d.  140]  persons  of  wealth  are  members  of  the  com- 
munity ;  and,  toward  the  end  of  the  second  century,  it 
contained  some  of  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  Em- 
pire.^ But  at  first  all,  or  almost  all,  were  of  humble 
life.^  The  high-born  and  powerful  were  not  found  in 
the  earliest  churches,  any  more  than  among  the  fol- 
lowers of  Jesus  in  Galilee.  The  glory  of  religions 
belongs  exclusively  to  their  founders.  They  are,  in  fact, 
a  matter  of  pure  faith.  Mere  belief  is  a  commonplace 
affair;  the  masterpiece  is  his  who  has  the  skill  to  in- 
spire faith. 

When  we  try  to  fancy  to  ourselves  these  wondrous 
beginnings,  we  commonly  shape  them  after  the  fashion 
of  our  day,  and  thus  are  betrayed  into  serious  mistakes. 
A  man  of  the  people  in  the  first  Christian  century  was 

1  Rossi,  Bull,  iii.  3,  5,  6,  12.  The  case  of  Pomponia  Grsecina,  under 
Nero  (Tac.  Ann.  xiii.  32:  see  "  Antichrist,"  p.  32),  is  here  in  point;  but 
it  is  not  certain  that  she  was  a  Christian. 

2  Rossi,  P\.oma  Sotlerr.  i,  309;  pi.  21:  12;  and  epigraphs  deciphered  by 
Leon  Renier,  in  Comptes  rendus  de  Vacad.  des  inscr.,  etc.,  1865,  289  ;  and 
by  General  Creuly  in  Rev.  arch.  Jan.  1866,  63,  64;  Rossi,  Bull.  iii.  10: 
77-79. 

«  1  Cor.  i.  26-31;  Jas.  ii.  5-9. 


298  THE  APOSTLES. 

nothing  like  what  a  man  of  the  people  is  to-day.  Edu- 
cation had  not,  at  that  time,  drawn  so'  sharp  a  line  of 
class  distinction  as  now  exists.  The  Mediterranean 
races  —  setting  aside  the  Latin  populations,  which  had 
lost  their  importance  and  passed  out  of  sight  ever  since 
the  Roman  Empire,  by  conquering  the  world,  had  become 
the  property  of  the  conquered  —  were  less  vigorous  than 
ours,  but  more  light  of  heart,  more  vivacious,  quick- 
witted, and  idealistic.  The  poor  with  whom  we  have 
here  to  do  were  not  weighted  with  the  heavy  material- 
ism of  our  lowest  classes,  did  not  exhibit  that  dull  and 
blotted  outlook,  the  dire  effect  of  our  climate  and  the 
evil  legacy  of  the  Middle  Age,  which  gives  so  desolating 
an  aspect  to  our  poor.  Though  very  ignorant  and  very 
credulous,  they  were  not  much  more  so  than  the  rich 
and  powerful.  We  must  not,  then,  imagine  the  estab- 
lishing of  Christianity  as  anything  like  what  it  would 
be  with  us,  if  a  similar  popular  movement  should  at 
length  gain  the  adherence  of  the  cultivated,  —  a  thing 
which  we  cannot  conceive  as  possible.  The  founders  of 
Christianity  were  men  of  the  common  people,  in  the 
sense  that  they  were  clad  in  the  common  fashion,  lived 
in  very  simple  style,  and  spoke  incorrectly,  seeking  only 
to  give  lively  expression  to  their  thought.  But  intel- 
lectually they  were  the  inferiors  of  only  a  very  few, 
daily  becoming  fewer,  who  survived  from  the  great  days 
of  Julius  and  Augustus  Caesar.  As  compared  with  the 
select  class  of  thinkers  who  made  a  chain  of  thought  be- 
tween the  age  of  Augustus  and  that  of  the  Antonines, 
the  first  Christians  were  indeed  of  weak  intelligence ; 
but,  compared  with  the  masses  of  the  Empire,  they  were 
men  of  light.  They  were  sometimes  even  treated  as 
free-thinkers ;  and  the  popular  cry  against  them  was, 


THE  FUTURE   OF  MISSIONS. 


299 


"Death  to  the  atheists!"^  And  this  is  not  strange. 
The  world  was  making  fearful  progress  in  superstition. 
The  first  two  capitals  of  Gentile  Christianity,  Antioch 
and  Ephesus,  were  of  all  cities  of  the  Empire,  the  two 
most  given  to  supernatural  beliefs.  The  second  and 
third  centuries  carried  credulity  and  craving  for  the 
marvellous  to  very  imbecility. 

Christianity  had  its  birth  outside  the  official  world, 
but  not  exactly  beneath  it.  It  is  only  on  an  outside 
view,  or  by  vulgar  prejudice,  that  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
are  reckoned  as  of  the  lower  class.  A  man  of  the 
world  likes  what  is  proud  and  strong ;  honour,  as  he 
understands  it,  consists  in  not  submitting  to  an  insult. 
He  despises  one  who  confesses  himself  weak,  who  suffers 
all,  submits  to  all,  gives  his  coat  to  him  that  asketh, 
and  holds  his  cheek  to  the  smiter.  This  is  a  mistake 
of  his  ;  for  the  weak  one  whom  he  scorns  is  commonly 
his  superior :  the  sum- total  of  virtue  with  those  who 
obey  —  serving-women,  workmen,  soldiers,  sailors,  and 
the  like  —  is  greater  than  with  those  who  command  and 
enjoy.  And  this  is  almost  the  regular  course  of  things  ; 
for  authority  and  enjoyment,  far  from  being  aids  to 
virtue,  are  really  a  hindrance. 

Jesus  saw  with  wonderful  clearness  that  in  the  popu- 
lar heart  is  the  great  treasury  of  devotion  and  res- 
ignation for  the  saving  of  the  world.  Hence  his 
declaration,  "  Happy  are  the  poor,"  seeing  that  it  is 
easier  for  them  than  for  others  to  be  good.  The  first 
Christians  were  characteristically  of  the  poor.  Their 
very  name  was  *'  the  poor  "  {ehionim)?     Even  when  the 

1  Atpe  Tovs  ddeovs :  Martyrd.  of  Polycarp,  3, 9, 12;  Ruinart,  Acta  sincera, 
31,  32. 

2  See  "  Life  of  Jesus,"  pp.  209-215,  comparing  Jas.  ii.  5-10,  and 
Matt.  V.  3. 


300  THE  APOSTLES. 

Christian  was  rich,  in  the  second  and  third  centuries, 
he  was  in  spirit  a  tenuior ;  ^  he  found  security  in  the  law 
authorising  associations  among  the  poor  {collegia  tenuio- 
rum).  The  Christians  were  doubtless  not  all  slaves,  or 
people  of  low  condition ;  but  "  slave  "  was  the  social 
equivalent  of  "  Christian  " ;  what  might  be  said  of  a 
slave  might  be  said  of  a  Christian.  With  both,  the 
same  virtues  were  held  in  honour,  —  kindness,  humil- 
ity, resignation,  gentleness.  The  testimony  of  pagan 
writers  is  unanimous  upon  this  point.  All,  without 
exception,  see  in  the  Christian  the  qualities  of  the  slave, 
—  indifference  to  great  affairs,  a  sad  and  contrite  air, 
harsh  judgment  of  the  age,  aversion  for  games,  theatres, 
the  gymnasium,  and  the  public  bath.^ 

In  short,  pagans  were  "  the  world,"  Christians  were 
''  not  of  the  world."  They  were  a  little  company  apart, 
hated  by  the  world,  finding  it  an  evil  place,^  seeking 
to  "  keep  themselves  unspotted  from  the  world."  Thus 
the  Christian  ideal  will  be  the  opposite  of  the  worldly.* 
The  perfect  Christian  will  love  his  lowly  condition  ;  he 
will  love  the  virtue  of  the  poor  and  simple,  of  him  who 
seeks  not  his  own  advantage.  But  he  will  have  the 
defects  of  his  merits;  he  will  declare  many  things  to 
be  idle  and  vain  which  are  not  so  ;  he  will  belittle  the 
universe ;  will  hate  or  despise  mere  beauty.  A  view  of 
things  in  which  a  Venus  of  Milo  is  only  an  idol  is  a 
false  or  at  any  rate  a  partial  view,  for  the  beautiful  is 
almost  as  precious  as  the  good  and  the  true.     With  such 

1  Seep.  290,  above. 

2  Tac.  Ann.  xv.  44;  Plin.  Ep.  x.  97;  Suet.  Nero,  16;  Dom.  15;  Philo- 
patris;  Rutil.  Num.  i.  389,  440  et  seq. 

8  John  XV.  17-20;  xvi.  8,  33;  xvii.  17,  18;  Jas.  i.  27. 
*  This  is  spoken  of  primitive  Christianity,  not  of  Christianity  as  now 
preached  by  Jesuits  and  others,  —  a  wholly  different  thing. 


THE  FUTl/RE  OF  MISSIONS,  301 

a  view,  Art  must  needs  degenerate.  The  Christian  will 
take  no  account  of  good  building,  carving,  or  drawing ; 
he  is  too  much  a  man  of  ideas.  He  will  make  little 
account  of  knowledge ;  curiosity  seems  to  him  a  vain 
thing.  Confounding  the  great  joy  of  the  soul,  which 
is  one  way  of  laying  hold  upon  the  infinite,  with  vul- 
gar pleasure,  he  will  forbid  himself  its  enjoyment.  He 
is  ^'  righteous  overmuch." 

Another  law  here  begins  to  be  visible,  as  destined  to 
rule  in  our  history.  The  establishment  of  Christianity 
corresponds  with  the  suppression  of  political  life  in  the 
Mediterranean  system.  Christianity  grows  and  spreads 
at  a  time  when  there  is  no  more  a  fatherland.  Patriot- 
ism is  one  thing  wholly  wanting  to  the  founders  of  the 
Church.  They  are  not  cosmopolitan  ;  for  all  the  earth 
is  to  them  a  place  of  exile ;  they  are  idealists  in  the 
most  absolute  sense.  Our  native  land  is  to  us  both 
body  and  soul :  the  soul  consists  in  common  memories, 
customs,  legends,  sorrows,  hopes,  and  sense  of  loss  ;  the 
body,  in  the  soil,  race,  language,  mountains,  streams, 
and  products  native  to  the  soil.  Never  was  a  creature 
more  detached  from  all  that  than  the  early  Christians. 
They  have  no  attachment  to  Judasa  ;  they  have  quickly 
forgotten  Galilee ;  the  glory  of  Greece  or  Rome  is 
naught  to  them.  The  lands  where  Christianity  first 
got  a  footing  —  Syria,  Cyprus,  Asia  Minor  —  had  no 
memory  of  a  time  when  they  had  been  free.  Greece 
and  Rome  still  had  a  strong  national  feeling ;  but  at 
Rome,  patriotism  survived  only  in  the  army  and  in  a 
few  families,  while  in  Greece  Christianity  bore  fruit 
only  at  Corinth  which  was  a  mere  conglomerate  of 
every  race  since  its  destruction  by  Mummius  (b.  c.  146) 
and  its   rebuilding  by  Augustus.     The   regions   truly 


302  THE  APOSTLES. 

Greek  —  then  as  now  very  jealous  of  one  another,  and 
absorbed  in  the  memories  of  their  past  —  gave  little 
heed  to  the  new  gospel,  and  were  always  lukewarm 
in  their  Christian  profession.  Asia  and  Syria,  on  the 
other  hand,  those  countries  of  softness,  gaiety,  and 
sensual  delight,  of  free  morals  and  unrestraint,  accus- 
tomed to  receive  life  and  government  from  elsewhere, 
had  nothing  to  lose  in  the  way  of  local  pride  and  old 
tradition.  The  oldest  capitals  of  Christianity,  Antioch, 
Ephesus,  Thessalonica,  Corinth,  and  Rome  —  were  (so 
to  speak)  conglomerate  cities,  like  modern  Alexandria, 
whither  all  races  gather,  where  the  marriage  of  man 
and  land  which  makes  a  nation  was  utterly  broken  off. 

The  importance  allowed  to  social  questions  is  always 
in  inverse  ratio  to  that  bestowed  on  politics.  As  pa- 
triotism weakens,  so  socialism  predominates.  Christian- 
ity was  a  bursting-forth  of  social  and  religious  ideas, 
which  might  well  have  been  anticipated  when  Augustus 
put  an  end  to  political  warfare.  Christianity  is  a  univer- 
sal faith,  like  Islamism,  and  must  prove  the  natural 
enemy  of  nationalities.  It  is  a  task  of  centuries  and  of 
many  a  schism  to  form  a  National  Church,  with  a  religion 
which  was  at  the  beginning  a  complete  denial  of  an 
earthly  country ;  which  came  to  birth  at  a  time  when  the 
world  no  longer  had  either  cities  or  citizens ;  which 
the  hard  and  sturdy  old  republics  of  Italy  and  Greece 
would  certainly  have  expelled  as  a  deadly  poison  to 
the  State. 

This  was,  in  truth,  one  reason  of  the  grandeur  of 
the  new  faith.  Humanity  is  a  thing  of  variety  and 
change,  drawn  this  way  and  that  by  contradictory  de- 
sires. Great  is  the  Fatherland,  and  holy  are  the  names 
of  the  heroes  at  Marathon,  Thermopylaa,  Valmy,  and 


THE  FUTURE  OF  MISSIONS.  303 

Fleurus.^  And  yet  our  country  is  not  the  only  thing 
on  earth.  A  man  is  a  man,  a  child  of  God,  before  he  is 
a  Frenchman  or  a  German.  The  kingdom  of  God,  an 
eternal  dream  that  will  never  be  banished  from  the 
heart  of  man,  is  the  protest  against  a  too  exclusive 
patriotism.  The  thought  of  an  organisation  of  man- 
kind, to  ensure  its  greatest  welfare  and  its  moral 
betterment,  is  a  legitimate  and  Christian  thought. 
The  State  knows  and  can  know  but  one  thing:  — 
the  organisation  of  self-interest.  This  is  not  a  thing 
indifferent,  for  self-regard  is  the  strongest  and  most 
accessible  of  human  motives.  But  this  is  not  enough. 
Governments  that  set  out  on  the  theory  that  man  is 
made  up  only  of  selfish  interests  have  deceived  them- 
selves. To  a  man  of  high  race  devotion  is  as  nat- 
ural as  self-interest ;  and  the  organising  of  devotion  is 
religion.  Let  there  be  no  hope,  then,  of  dispensing 
with  religion,  or  religious  associations.  Every  step  of 
progress  in  modern  societies  will  make  this  need  the 
more  imperative. 

Thus  these  stories  of  far-off  events  may  be  full  of 
instruction  and  of  example  for  us.  We  must  not  stop 
short  with  certain  features  which  look  strange  to  us 
through  difference  of  time.  When  we  have  to  do  with 
popular  beliefs,  there  is  always  a  vast  disproportion 
between  the  grandeur  of  the  ideal  which  faith  aims 
at,  and  the  pettiness  of  the  material  circumstances  that 
may  have  induced  the  faith.  Hence  this  peculiarity : 
that  in  religious  history  all  that  is  most  sublime  may 
be  mingled  with  shocking  details  and  acts  that  look 
like  madness.  The  monk  who  invented  [the  fable  of] 
the  holy  flask  {ampulla)  [of  Rheims]  was  one  of  the 

1  Here  the  independence  of  Holland  was  finally  secured  in  1622.  —  Ed. 


304  THE  APOSTLES. 

founders  of  the  kingdom  of  France.  Who  would  not  blot 
from  the  life  of  Jesus  the  story  of  the  demoniacs  [and 
the  swine]  at  Gergasa  (Matt.  viii.  28-38)  ?  No  sane  man 
ever  did  what  was  done  by  St.  Francis,  Joan  of  Arc, 
Peter  the  Hermit,  or  Ignatius  Loyola.  Nothing  is  more 
variable  in  meaning  than  the  word  "  unreason "  as 
applied  to  past  phases  of  the  human  mind.  If  we 
follow  the  ideas  current  in  our  day  there  was  never  a 
prophet,  apostle,  or  saint,  who  should  not  have  been 
shut  up  in  an  asylum.  Human  thought  is  very  un- 
steady where  reflection  is  not  in  an  advanced  stage ;  in 
such  conditions  of  thought  good  and  evil  change  places 
by  insensible  degrees,  and  so  too  with  the  ugly  and  the 
beautiful.  Unless  we  recognise  this,  no  justice  is  pos- 
sible in  our  judgment  of  the  past.  All  history  is  per- 
vaded by  a  Divine  breath  which  gives  it  an  admirable 
unity;  but  human  faculties  can  combine  its  elements 
in  infinite  variety.  The  apostles  are  nearer  to  our 
comprehension  than  the  founders  of  Buddhism;  and 
yet  these  were  the  nearer  in  language  and  probably  in 
race.  Our  century  has  witnessed  religious  movements 
quite  as  extraordinary  as  those  of  old,  which  have 
called  forth  equal  enthusiasm,  which  have  already  had 
more  martyrs  in  proportion  [to  the  lapse  of  time],  and 
whose  future  is  still  uncertain. 

I  do  not  speak  here  of  the  Mormons,  a  sect  in  some 
ways  so  dull  and  low  of  understanding  that  we  hesitate 
to  treat  it  seriously.  Still  it  is  instructive  to  see,  in  the 
open  light  of  our  century,  men  of  our  own  race  by  the 
thousand,  living  in  the  midst  of  miracle,  believing  with 
blind  faith  in  marvels  which  they  claim  to  have  seen 
and  touched.  There  is  already  an  ample  literature  to 
prove  the  harmony  of  Mormonism  and  science ;  and. 


THE  FUTURE   OF  MISSIONS.  305 

which  amounts  to  more,  this  religion,  built  upon  a  silly 
imposture,  has  effected  prodigies  of  patience  and  self- 
sacrifice ;  and,  within  five  centuries,  learned  doctors 
will  prove  its  divinity  by  the  miracles  of  its  establish- 
ment. Babism,  in  Persia,  has  been  a  phenomenon  of  far 
greater  importance.^  A  man  gentle  of  temper  and  void 
of  self-assertion,  a  sort  of  modest  and  pious  Spinoza, 
found  himself,  rather  against  his  will,  lifted  to  the 
rank  of  a  miracle-worker  and  a  divine  incarnation. 
He  became  the  head  of  a  numerous,  zealous,  and  fanati- 
cal sect,  which  nearly  brought  about  a  revolution  that 
might  be  compared  to  the  advent  of  Islam.  Thousands, 
of  martyrs  rushed  joyfully  upon  a  death  of  martyrdom 
for  his  sake.  A  day  perhaps  without  parallel  in  all 
history  was  that  when  a  great  massacre  of  Babis  took 
place  at  Teheran  (in  1852).  "  On  this  day,"  says  a  nar- 
rator who  was  an  eye-witness  of  the  scene,^  "  a  spectacle 
was  beheld  in  the  streets  and  bazaars  of  Teheran  which 
the  population  will  surely  never  forget.  Even  now 
(1865),  when  conversation  turns  upon  this  event,  we 
may  judge  of  the  admiration,  mingled  with  horror, 
felt  then  by  the  multitude,  and  undiminished  to  this 
day.  Women  and  children  were  seen  going  forward 
into  the  midst  of  the  executioners,  with  flesh  all  bare 
and  gashed,  while  matches,  kindled  and  burning,  were 
thrust  into  the  wounds.  The  victims  were  dragged 
with  cords,  or  forced  to  walk  by  blows  of  a  whiplash. 
Women  and  children  walked  on,  singing  a  verse  which 

^  See  Gobineau's  history  of  the  beginnings  of  BSbism :  Les  relig.  et  les 

philos.  dans  PAsie  centrale  (Paris,  1865,  141) ;  also  that  by  Mirza  Kazem- 

Beg  in  Journ.  Asiat.    I  received  at  Constantinople  information  from  two 

witnesses  who  were  in  close  contact  with  the  incidents,  confirming  the 

accounts  of  those  two  scholars. 

2  M.  de  Gobineau,  before  cited. 

20 


3o6  THE  APOSTLES. 

ran  thus  :  *  In  truth  we  come  from  God,  and  we  return 
to  God  ! '  Their  voices  rose  shrill  above  the  deep  silence 
of  the  crowd.  As  often  as  one  of  the  victims  fell,  and 
was  forced  to  rise  by  blows  of  the  whip  or  thrusts  of 
a  bayonet,  weak  as  he  might  be  by  loss  of  the  blood 
which  streamed  from  all  his  limbs,  he  would  begin  to 
dance,  and  with  renewed  enthusiasm  would  cry  out, 
*  In  truth,  we  are  of  God,  and  we  return  to  him ! ' 
Some  of  the  children  expired  on  the  passage ;  when  the 
executioners  cast  their  little  bodies  under  the  feet  of 
their  fathers  and  sisters,  who  walked  on  proudly  over 
them,  hardly  staying  to  cast  a  glance  upon  them. 
When  they  came  to  the  place  of  execution,  the  victims 
again  were  promised  their  life  as  the  price  of  recanta- 
tion. One  executioner  went  so  far  as  to  say  to  a  father 
that,  if  he  did  not  yield,  he  would  cut  the  throats  of 
his  two  boys  upon  his  breast.  They  were  two  chil- 
dren, the  elder  being  a  boy  of  fifteen ;  and,  red  as  they 
were  with  their  own  blood,  and  their  flesh  burned 
to  coal,  they  listened  coolly  to  the  parley.  The  father, 
casting  himself  on  the  ground,  replied  that  he  was 
ready;  but  the  elder  boy,  eagerly  claiming  his  priv- 
ilege as  the  elder,  demanded  to  have  his  throat  cut 
first."  ^ 

This  took  place  in  1852.  The  sect  of  Mazdak,  un- 
der Chosroes  Noushirvan,  was  stifled  in  just  such  an- 

^  Another  detail,  from  a  first-hand  source,  is  this :  in  order  to  induce 
some  of  these  sectaries  to  retract,  they  were  fastened  to  the  muzzles  of 
cannon,  primed  with  a  slowly  burning  fuse.  It  was  proposed  to  cut  the 
fuse  if  they  would  renounce  the  Bab ;  but  they,  stretching  their  arms 
toward  the  fire,  entreated  it  to  make  haste,  and  come  at  once  to  consum- 
mate their  bhss.  At  length  all  was  over ;  night  fell  upon  a  mass  of  man- 
gled flesh ;  the  victims'  heads  were  fastened  in  bundles  to  the  executioners' 
stake,  and  the  dogs  of  the  suburbs  rushed  in  packs  toward  the  spot. 


THE  FUTURE   OF  MISSIONS.  307 

other  blood-bath.  For  simple  natures,  absolute  devotion 
is  the  most  exquisite  of  delights,  and  even  a  sort  of 
need.  In  the  affair  of  the  Babis,  some  who  hardly 
belonged  to  the  sect  were  seen  to  come  and  accuse 
themselves,  that  they  too  might  be  among  the  suffer- 
ers. It  is  so  sweet  a  thing  to  man  to  suffer  for  some- 
thing, that  in  many  a  case  the  thirst  for  martyrdom 
is  enough  to  create  belief.  A  disciple  who  was  exe- 
cuted with  the  Bab,  while  hanging  at  his  side  on  the 
ramparts  of  Tebriz,  awaiting  death,  had  only  this 
one  word  to  say :  "  Art  thou  satisfied  with  me,  my 
master?" 

Tliose  who  regard  everything  in  history  as  miraculous 
or  imaginary,  which  exceeds  the  calculations  of  good 
common  sense,  must  find  such  facts  as  these  inexpli- 
cable. The  fundamental  condition  of  true  criticism  is 
ability  to  comprehend  the  many  moods  of  the  human 
mind.  To  us,  absolute  faith  is  (it  may  be)  a  thing  com- 
pletely foreign.  Outside  the  positive  sciences,  which 
give  us  a  kind  of  material  certainty,  any  opinion  is  to 
our  eyes  only  a  strong  probability,  implying  one  part 
truth  and  one  part  error.  The  portion  of  error  may  be 
as  small  as  you  will,  but  it  is  never  reduced  to  zero 
when  we  have  to  do  with  an  affair  of  morals,  involving 
some  question  of  art,  language,  literary  form,  or  person- 
ality. But  narrow  and  opinionated  minds,  such  as 
those  of  Orientals,  do  not  see  it  so ;  theirs  is  the 
enamelled  eye  that  we  find  in  a  mosaic,  fixed,  expres- 
sionless, not  an  eye  like  ours.  Such  minds  can  see  only 
one  thing  at  a  time  ;  this  one  thing  besets  and  takes 
possession  of  them :  it  is  not  in  their  will  to  believe  or 
not ;  there  is  no  more  room  in  them  for  a  side-thought 
by  way  of  reflection.    An  opinion  being  thus  embraced, 


3o8  THE  APOSTLES. 

the  believer  readily  dies  for  it.  A  martyr  in  religion  is 
what  a  partisan  is  in  politics.  There  have  not  been 
many  martyrs  of  superior  intellect.  A  confessor  of 
Diocletian's  time,  when  peace  was  once  made  with  the 
Church,  would  seem  to  us  a  person  of  domineering 
temper,  very  much  of  a  bigot,  and  something  of 
a  bore.  One  is  never  really  tolerant  when  he  sin- 
cerely thinks  that  he  is  all  right,  and  the  others  are 
all  wrong. 

Since  great  enkindlings  of  religion  are  the  result  of 
a  very  narrow  way  of  seeing  things,  they  become  an 
enigma  to  a  century  like  ours,  when  the  rigidity  of 
men's  convictions  is  relaxed.  Among  us  a  man  of 
candour  is  constantly  changing  his  opinions :  first,  be- 
cause the  world  changes ;  and  secondly,  because  he  the 
observer  changes  too.  We  believe  in  many  things  at 
once.  We  love  justice  and  truth,  and  for  these  we 
would  risk  our  lives ;  but  we  do  not  think  that  they 
are  the  property  of  any  one  sect  or  party.  As  good 
Frenchmen,  we  may  yet  admit  that  the  Germans  or  the 
English  are  in  many  ways  our  superiors.  It  is  not  so 
at  a  time  when,  or  in  a  place  where  all  are  of  one  com- 
munion, one  race,  one  political  school,  and  of  one  com- 
plete make-up;  and  that  is  why  all  great  religious 
creations  have  taken  place  under  social  conditions  more 
or  less  like  those  of  the  East.  Hitherto,  indeed,  abso- 
lute faith  alone  has  succeeded  in  driving  others  from 
the  field.  A  good  servant-girl  in  Lyons,  Blandina,  who 
braved  death  for  her  faith  seventeen  centuries  ago,  — 
a  brutal  bandit  chief,  Clovis,  who  found  it  good  to  em- 
brace the  Catholic  faith  fourteen  centuries  ago,  —  these 
still  prescribe  our  creed. 

Who  is  there  that,  in  traversing  our  ancient  cities 


THE  FUTURE   OF  MISSIONS.  309 

become  modern,  has  not  stayed  his  steps  beneath  the 
gigantic  monuments  of  the  faith  of  bygone  ages  ?  All 
around  them  is  made  new  ;  not  a  vestige  is  left  of  the 
customs  of  old;  but  the  cathedral  has  remained,  —  a 
little  spoiled,  perhaps,  as  high  as  a  man's  hand  can 
reach,  but  deeply  rooted  in  the  soil.  There  let  it  stand 
by  its  own  weight  [mole  sua  stet) !  its  solid  mass  is  its 
right  to  be.  It  has  withstood  a  deluge  that  has  swept 
away  everything  about  it ;  not  one  of  the  men  of  afore- 
time who  should  come  back  to  revisit  the  spot  where 
he  lived  would  find  his  house;  the  raven  alone,  that 
has  built  its  nest  in  the  pinnacles  of  the  sacred  edifice, 
has  never  seen  the  hammer  lifted  against  his  dwelling. 
Strange  privilege  !  Those  martyrs  who  acted  in  good 
faith,  those  rude  converts,  those  pirate  church-builders, 
are  our  masters  still.  We  are  Christians,  because  it 
pleased  them  to  be  so.  As  in  politics  it  is  only  the 
barbaric  foundations  that  endure,  so  in  religion  it  is 
only  spontaneous  and  (if  I  may  call  it  so)  fanatical  con- 
victions that  will  spread  by  their  own  power.  The  fact 
is,  a  religion  is  the  work  of  a  people.  Its  success  does 
not  depend  on  the  better  or  worse  proofs  it  can  give 
that  it  is  divine ;  its  success  is  just  in  proportion  as  it 
speaks  to  the  popular  heart. 

Does  it  follow  from  this  that  religion  is  destined  to 
wither  by  degrees  and  to  disappear,  like  the  popular 
errors  as  to  magic,  witchcraft,  and  spirit-manifesta- 
tions? Surely  not.  Religion  itself  is  not  a  popular 
error.  It  is  a  great  truth ,  of  instinct,  half-seen  by  the 
people,  uttered  by  the  people.  All  symbols  that  serve 
to  give  shape  to  the  religious  sentiment  are  imperfect, 
and  are  destined  to  be  cast  aside,  one  after  another. 
But  nothing  is  falser  than  the  dream  of  certain  persons 


310  THE  APOSTLES. 

who  think  to  conceive  a  perfect  humanity,  in  conceiving 
it  without  religion.  AYe  should  put  it  just  the  other 
way.  China,  which  is  an  inferior  humanity,  is  almost 
destitute  of  religion.  On  the  other  hand,  let  us  sup- 
pose a  planet  inhabited  by  a  race  of  mankind  whose 
intellectual,  moral,  and  physical  power  should  be  double 
that  of  our  earthly  humanity,  it  would  be  at  least  twice 
as  religious  as  our  own.  I  say  "  at  least,"  for  it  is 
likely  that  the  growth  of  the  religious  faculties  would 
go  on  at  a  still  more  rapid  rate  than  that  of  the  intel- 
lectual capacity,  and  not  merely  in  an  equal  ratio.  Let 
us  suppose  a  humanity  ten  times  mightier  than  ours ; 
it  would  be  infinitely  more  religious.  It  is  even  prob- 
able that  man  —  at  that  height  of  sublimity,  detached 
from  all  material  cares  and  all  selfish  considerations, 
gifted  with  a  perfect  sense  of  touch  and  a  taste  divinely 
delicate,  seeing  how  base  and  void  is  all  excepting  the 
true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good  —  would  be  wholly 
religious,  absorbed  in  perpetual  adoration,  passing  from 
ecstasy  to  ecstasy,  born,  living,  and  dying  in  a  flood 
of  joy.  Selfishness,  which  measures  the  degree  of 
inferiority  in  any  creature,  lessens  in  proportion  as 
man  is  lifted  above  the  brute.  A  perfect  being  would 
be  no  longer  selfish,  he  would  be  wholly  religious.  The 
effect  of  progress,  therefore,  will  be  the  expansion  of 
religion,  not  its  destruction  or  its  decay. 

But  it  is  time  to  return  to  our  three  missionaries, 
Paul,  Barnabas,  and  John  Mark,  whom  we  left  just  as 
they  set  forth  from  Antioch  by  the  gate  opening  to 
Seleucia.  In  a  succeeding  volume  (''  Saint  Paul  ")  I 
shall  attempt  to  follow  the  footsteps  of  these  messen- 
gers of  good  tidings,  by  land  and  sea,  through  calm 
and  storm,  through  good  and  evil  days.     I  am  impa- 


THE  FUTURE   OF  MISSIONS.  311 

tient  to  return  to  the  story  of  this  unequalled  epic,  — 
to  trace  those  numberless  highways  of  Asia  and  Europe 
along  which  they  sowed  the  good  seed  of  the  gospel, 
and  those  floods  which  they  crossed  so  often,  under  such 
varying  conditions.  The  great  Christian  Odyssey  will 
now  begin.  Already  the  apostolic  bark  has  spread  her 
sails ;  the  wind  breathes  softly,  breathing  only  to  bear 
upon  its  wings  the  words  of  Jesus. 


INDEX. 


Acts,  book  of,  6,  15,  25;  author  and 
date,  9-13 ;  it  favours  Roman  au- 
thority; its  plan,  16;  its  compromis- 
ing tone ;  17,  24 ;  its  account  of  Paul, 
18,  20,  21. 

Adiabene,  converts  from  (Helen),  221- 
225. 

Agabus  (a  prophet),  211, 

Alexandria,  178,  244,  302. 

Ananias  (of  Damascus),  172,  222. 

Ananias  and  Sapphira,  97,  103. 

Antioch,  13,  194-200;  situation,  198, 
237 ;  luxury  and  corruption,  196-198; 
Church  in,  200-203,  204,  205,  206. 

Apocalypse,  13. 

Apollos,  241. 

Apostles  in  Jerusalem,  99,  100,  101. 

Apparitions,  5,  50,  52,  53,  67  ;  in  Galilee, 
62. 

Aretas  (Hareth),  143,  175. 

Ascension,  accounts  of,  79. 

Asmonaean  kings,  220. 

Associations  under  Roman  law,  290- 
294,  300. 

Babism  305-307. 

Barnabas,  115,  173,  189-193,  200,  204, 

205,  206,  211-213,  237. 
Boethus,  house  of,  216. 
Brothers  of  Jesus,  75,  76,  101. 
Buddhism,  122. 
Burial  societies,  289-291. 

CiESAREA,  155,  158,  185,  193. 

Caiaphas,  137,  144. 

Caligula,  177,  178-181,  213,  242. 


Candace  (a  title),  23,  153. 

Charities  of  the  early  Church,  126, 132. 

Christ,  not  a  personal  name,  207. 

Christian,  the  name,  206 ;  character,  300. 

Christianity  not  miraculous,  30. 

Circumcision,  question  of,  21,  22. 

Colossians  (epistle  to),  10. 

Common  property  in  early  Church,  126 ; 

its  disastrous  results,  95,  96. 
Controversy,  83. 
Corinth,  301. 

Cornelius  at  Csesarea,  185-187. 
Coimcil  (so  called)  at  Jerusalem,  23. 
Creed,  primitive,  195. 
Cyprus,  116. 

Damascus,  18, 172, 177,  182. 

Daphne,  195. 

Deacons  appointed,  125 ;  their  services, 

126,  148. 
Death  penalty,  102. 
Dositheus,  235. 

Ebionism,  95. 

Ecclesia,  101. 

Egypt  and  Palestine,  Jews  in,  136,  240. 

Emmaus,  visit  to,  54-56,  59. 

Euodias,  208. 

Excommunication,  penalty  of,  103. 

Family    life,   as    modified   by   Chris- 
tianity, 130-132. 
Felix,  procurator,  229,  236. 
Future  life,  conceptions  of,  109. 

Galatiaks,  epistle  to,  4, 19,  24,  25,  188, 
190,  191. 


314 


INDEX. 


Galilaeans,  116,  207. 

Galilee,  retreat  of  Christians  in,  60-72 ; 

later  Christianity  in,  73,  74. 
Gamaliel,  139,  163. 
Gnostic  doctrines  of  Simon  Magus,  230, 

232-234. 
Greece,  religion  of,  277. 
Greek,  the  language,  116,  160,  203. 

Hanan,  137. 

Healing,  gift  of,  109. 

Hebrews  (the  original  Christians),  118. 

Helen  of  Adiabene,  221. 

Hellenists,  118,  120,  145. 

Hermon,  Mt.,  167,  170. 

Herod  Agrippa,  175,  213;  a  persecutor, 

216,  237;  his  death,  218. 
History,  composition  of,  32. 
Hypothesis  in  history,  4. 

Illusions,  56-58,  59. 
Izates,  222. 

James,  19,  20,  76. 

Jerusalem,  church  at.  210, 216,  220,  237. 

Jews  at  Autioch,  199,  203,  208;  in 
Rome,  244;  of  the  Dispersion,  242; 
Egypt,  136;  in  Damascus,  221. 

John,  47,  n. 

Joppa,  155;  Peter  in,  184. 

Josephus,  226,  236,  248. 

Judaism,  its  contribution  to  Chris- 
tianity, 132,  242. 

Judas  (Iscariot),  99 ;  the  Gaulonite,  227. 

Lightning  in  the  Lebanon,  170. 

Lucius,  238. 

Luke,  8,  10,  11,  14,  15,95. 

Maran  atha,  106. 

Mark,  116,  237,  238. 

Maronites,  203. 

Martha  and  Mary  (of  Bethany ),1 13. 

Martyrdom,  145. 

Mary  of   Magdala,  at   the  sepulchre, 

46-50. 
Matthias,  100. 
Menahem,  227,  238. 


Messiah  (the  title),  207. 

Miracle,  question  of,  27-30,  69 ;  accounts 

of,  314. 
Monastic  spirit,  135. 
Mormonism,  304. 

Nazarene  (the  name),  207. 

Oriental  religions,  280,  283. 

Parthia,  238. 

Paul,  2,  7,  8,  18,  26,  141,  147,  157-163, 
175;  his  conversion,  67-174;  vision, 
209;  at  Damascus,  172,  188-193;  at 
Jerusalem,  188-192 ;  at  Caesarea,  193 ; 
at  Antioch,  205,  238  ;  epistles,  25. 

Peter,  47,  55,  64,  104,  137-152 ;  his  mir- 
acles, 102,  182,  184;  vision  at  Joppa, 
184;  at  Jerusalem,  188;  in  prison, 
216 ;  at  Antioch,  237. 

Pharisees,  138. 

Philip  (the  deacon),  148-156. 

Philo  before  Caligula,  179-181,  241. 

Pillar-saints  at  Antioch,  202,  206. 

Plutarch,  277,  278. 

Poverty  in  the  early  Church,  122. 

Preaching,  113-115. 

Prophecy,  110,  211. 

Proselytes  in  Damascus,  etc.,  221. 

Protestantism,  36,  174. 

Repast  in  common,  98,  135. 

Resurrection  of  Jesus,  first  accounts, 
41-59;  witnesses  to,  105. 

Reticence  in  matters  of  belief,  37,  38. 

Ritual,  107,  108. 

Roman  authority,  13,  141,  143. 

Roman  Empire  as  forerunner  of  Chris- 
tianity, 239;  Roman  Empire,  255; 
spirit,  256,  263 ;  philosophy,  258 ;  ad- 
ministration, 259 ;  personal  liberty  in, 
261 ;  theatres,  260,  265 ;  philanthropy, 
267  ;  intellectual  decline,  269. 

Rome,  policy  of,  283. 

Sadducees,  139. 

Samaria,  mission  in,  148-156. 

Scripture,  use  of,  106. 


INDEX. 


315 


Simon  of  Gitton  (Simon  Magas),  150, 

226-233. 
Singing,  111, 
Spirit,  promise  of,  77  ;  gifts  of,  87,  92 ; 

descent  of,  84,  201,  208 ;  inspiration 

of,  237. 
Stephen,  125 ;  his  preaching,  139 ;  death, 

141-145. 
Stoicism,  263,  274,  279,  281. 
Syriac  (the  language),  120. 
Syrian  character  and  religion,  249. 

Talmud,  120,  226. 
Tarsus,  158, 193,  205. 


Theudas,  227,  229. 
Tongues,  gift  of,  85-90,  209. 
Twelve,  the,  2,  190. 

Visions,  5,  48;  in  Galilee,  62,  82;  of 

Peter,  65 ;  of  Paul,  209. 
Vitellius,  142. 

Women  as  propagators  of  Christianity, 
43,  45,  71,  104;  in  the  East,  128;  in 
Christian  work,  126-130. 

Zealots,  228. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


By  ERNEST  RENAN, 

Author  of  "  History  of  the  People  of  Israel^'  "  The 
Future  of  Science" 

From  the  twenty-third  French  edition.    With  notes.    Revised  and 
enlarged.    8vo.    Cloth.    $2.50. 

The  new  edition,  recently  published  in  this  city  by  the  enterprising  house 
of  Roberts  Brothers,  of  Ernest  Kenan's  "Life  of  Jesus,"  uniform  in  style 
with  this  great  scholar  and  writer's  "  History  of  the  People  of  Israel,"  will 
for  all  future  time  be  the  standard  edition  in  English  of  what  is  now  "widely 
recognized  as  the  one  great  literary  monument  of  a  century  of  New  Testament 
criticism."  The  translation  has  been  newly  revised  from  the  twenty-third  and 
final  edition,  which  was  revised  and  corrected  with  the  greatest  care  by  Renan. 
The  editor  of  this  edition  is  Joseph  Henry  Allen,  of  Cambridge,  a  well-known 
scholar,  who  is  eminently  fitted  for  the  important  task  which  he  has  here 
undertaken.  Mr.  Allen  has  revised  the  two  best  known  English  translations 
existing,  recasting  nearly  every  sentence,  and  scrupulously  weighing  the  whole, 
phrase  by  phrase,  with  the  original.  He  has  also  verified  every  one  of  Renan's 
multitude  of  citations.  It  seems  to  us  that  the  entire  work  could  not  have 
been  more  perfectly  rendered  into  English.  A  wonderful  change  has  taken 
place  in  the  general  Christian  world  during  the  past  thirty  years  m  its  attitude 
towards  Renan  and  his  "  Life  of  Jesus."  He  was  for  years,  after  the  appear- 
ance of  the  earliest  editions  of  his  book,  denounced  as  an  agnostic,  an  atheist, 
and  a  blasphemer  by  evangelical  Christians  who  are  ready  now  to  acknowledge 
the  wonderful  scholarship,  the  genius,  the  purity  of  motive,  the  devout  rever- 
ence of  his  work,  while  of  course  totally  disagreeing  with  Renan  in  his  rejec- 
tion of  the  supernatural  and  the  divinity  of  Jesus.  It  has  become  the  standard 
work  of  its  kind  among  theologians ;  for  the  honesty  of  purpose  and  sincerity 
of  its  author,  together  with  the  wonderful  beauty  and  devoutness  displayed 
throughout  the  entire  work,  is  freely  recognized.  No  writer  ever  treated  Jesus 
in  a  more  tender  and  appreciative  spirit  than  has  Renan.  It  seems  to  us  that, 
while  the  believer  in  the  New  Testament  record  in  its  entirety  will  not  have 
his  fakh  shaken  in  the  supernatural  portion,  he  will  rise  from  a  reading  of  this 
book  with  a  more  intense  love  for  Christ,  and  a  fuller  realization  of  the  stu- 
pendous mission  which  was  involved  in  his  brief  active  life  upon  the  earth.  — 
Boston  Home  Journal. 

Sold  by  all  Booksellers.  Mailed,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by  the  Publishers, 

ROBERTS  BROTHERS,  Bocton. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 


The  Bible  for  Learners. 


By  Dr.  H.  OoRT,  Professor  of  Oriental  Languages  at  Amsterdam! 
and  Dr.  I.  Hooykaas,  Pastor  at  Rotterdam,  with  the  assistance 
of  Dr.  A.  KuENEN,  Professor  of  Theology  at  Leiden.  Trans- 
lated from  the  Dutch,  by  Rev.  P.  H.  WiCKSTEED,  of  London. 
With  a  Comprehensive  Index,  made  specially  for  this  edition, 
and  Maps.     3  vols.     i2mo.     Cloth. 

OLD  TESTAMENT.  Vol.1.  Patriarchs,  Moses,  Judges. — 
Vol.  IL  Kings,  and  Prophets.  $4.00. 

NEW  TESTAMENT.    Vol.  III.   The  New  Testament.  $2.co. 

"  This  work  emanates  from  the  Dutch  school  of  theologians.  Nowhere 
n  Europe,"  said  the  lamented  J.  J.  Tayler,  "has  theological  science 
assumed  a  bolder  or  more  decisive  tone  than  in  Holland,  though  always 
within  the  limits  of  profound  reverence,  and  an  unenfeebled  attachment  to 
the  divine  essence  of  the  gospel.  .  .  .  We  know  of  no  work  done  here 
which  gives  such  evidence  of  solid  scholarship  joined  to  a  deep  and  strong 
religious  spirit." 

It  is  the  Bible  story,  told  in  a  standing  its  title,  it  is  a  work  for 
connected  form,  with  a  history  of  all,  with  or  without  Bible  learning, 
the  book  and  of  the  Bible  countries  The  scholar  will  value  it  for  its  con- 
and  peoples.  It  properly  treats  of  ciseness  and  labor-saving  references ; 
the  Bible  as  the  book  of  religion, —  the  general  reader  for  the  interest 
not  of  one  particular  form,  but  of  it  possesses  as  a  clear  and  interest- 
religion  itself,  —  "because  the  place  ing  narrative,  easily  understood,  in 
of  honor,  in  the  religious  life  of  man-  which  the  explanations,  thoughts, 
kind  and  of  each  man  in  particular,  and  ideas  of  every  great  expounder 
belongs  to  the  person  of  Jesus,  and  have  a  greater  or  less  place.  — 
because  it  is  upon  Jesus  that  the  Boston  Transcript. 
whole  Bible  turns*"  It  is  by  keep-  The  object  of  the  work  has  been 
ing  in  sight  the  fact  that  the  Bible  to  reduce  the  narratives  of  Scripture 
is  a  religious  book,  and  is  meant  to  the  understanding  of  youth  and 
to  furnish  answers  to  the  questions  the  unlearned,  with  such  additional 
"  Who  and  what  is  God  ? "  and  information  as  will  serve  to  better 
"  What  are  we  to  do  and  what  leave  elucidate  the  record  and  lead  the 
undone?" — and  is  not  nor  was  reader  to  value  its  contents  as  a 
meant  to  be  a  book  of  science  or  guide.  Its  simplicity  of  diction  and 
history,  that  the  authors  have  made  the  writer's  infusion  of  a  zealous 
so  valuable  a  work.  —  Golden  Rule,  spirit   into   some   of    its   narratives 

As  a  working  manual  for    the  will  commend  it  to  a  favorable  con- 
Sunday-school    teacher    it    will    be  sideration.  —  Chicago  Journal. 
found    of    great    value.      Notwith- 


Sold  everywhere  by  all  Booksellers.    Mailed^  post-paid, 
by  the  Publishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,   Boston. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publicatiofis. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ISRAEL 

By  ERNEST    RENAN, 

Author  of  "Life  of  Jesus." 

VOL. 

i.   Till  the  Time  of  King  David. 
II.   From  the  Reign  of  David  up  to  the  Capture  of  Samaria. 

III.  From  the  time  of  Hezekiah  till  the  Return  from  Babylon. 

IV.  From  the  Rule  of  the  Persians  to  that  of  the  Greel(s. 

V.   Period  of  Jewish  Independence  and  Judea  under  Roman  Rule- 
tWith  Index.) 

8vo.  Clotli.  Price,  62.50  per  volume. 


Renan's  "  History  of  Israel  "  may  be  said  to  consist  of  three  parts.  The  firet 
two  volumes  contain  the  analysis  of  the  events  that  led  up  to  the  rise  of  the  prophets; 
in  the  third,  he  unfolds  his  view  of  those  prophets  ;  while  the  last  two  illustrate  the 
course  of  the  prophetical  ideas,  steadily  making  their  way,  despite  constantly  recurring 
backsets,  till  their  final  triumph  in  Jesus.  Viewing  the  five  volumes  as  a  whole,  their 
interest  centres  in  Renan's  interpretation  of  Hebrew  history ;  and  it  may  safely  be 
said  that  nothing  that  he  has  done  reveals  the  brilliancy  of  his  mind  and  the  greatness 
of  his  intellectual  grasp  as  does  this  monument,  which  he  was  fortunately  permitted  to 
finish  before  his  life  came  to  an  end. 

These  last  pages,  written  with  all  the  vigor  that  characterizes  his  earliest  produc- 
tions, furnish  an  admirable  means  of  forming  a  fair  estimate  of  the  man  Renan  him 
self-  To  those  who  are  fond  of  denouncing  him  as  a  cynic,  the  sympathy  which  hi 
last  words  breathe  for  suffering  and  struggling  humanity  constitute  the  best  reply.  H.. 
has  often  been  called  a  sceptic,  and  yet  one  may  search  far  and  wide  through  modern 
literature  for  stronger  expressions  of  true  religious  faith  than  are  to  be  found  in 
Renan's  works.  Above  all,  the  testimony  must  be  given  to  him  which  he  most 
valued,  —  that  his  whole  life  was  actuated  by  a  love  of  truth  He  made  personal 
sacrifices  for  what  he  considered  to  be  the  trutlj.  He  investigated  fearlessly  ;  and 
when  he  spoke,  the  ring  of  sincerity  in  his  utterances  was  never  wanting,  while  the 
boldness  of  these  utterances  was  always  tempered  with  a  proper  consideration  for 
those  who  held  opinions  differing  from  his.  All  this  is  applicable  in  a  marked  degree 
to  the  last  work  that  issued  from  his  restless  pen. 

It  may  safely  be  predicted  that  Renan's  latest  production  will  take  rank  as  his 
most  important  since  the  "  Life  of  Jesus  "  There  is  the  same  charming  style,  the 
same  brilliancy  of  treatment,  the  same  clear  judgment  and  delicate  touches,  the  deep 
thoughts  and  thorough  mastery  of  his  subject,  which  have  made  Renan  one  of  the 
most  fascinating  of  modem  writers.  —  New  York  Times. 

To  all  who  know  anything  of  M.  Renan's  "  Life  of  Jesus  "  it  will  be  no  surprise 
that  the  same  writer  has  told  the  "  History  of  the  People  of  Israel  till  the  Time  of 
King  David  "  as  it  was  never  told  before  nor  is  ever  like  to  be  told  again.  For  but 
once  in  centuries  does  a  Renan  arise,  and  to  any  other  hand  this  work  were  impossible. 
Throughout  it  is  the  perfection  of  paradox,  for,  dealing  wholly  with  what  we  are  z>'. 
taught  to  lisp  at  the  mother's  knee,  it  is  more  original  than  the  wildest  romance ;  more 
heterodox  than  heterodoxy,  it  is  yet  full  of  large  and  tender  reverence  for  that 
supreme  religion  that  brightens  all  time  as  it  transcends  all  creeds.  —  The  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

Sold  by  all  Booksellers.  Mailed,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the 
Publishers, 

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Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers*  Publications. 

THE  RELIGION  OF  ISRAEL. 

A  MANUAL, 

Translated  from  the  Dutch  of  J.  Knappert,  Pastor  of  Leiden. 
By  Richard  Armstrong,  B.  A. 

i6mo.    Price  f  i.oo. 

From  th«  Botton  Daily  Advertittr. 

Its  pnrpose  is  to  give  a  faithful  and  accurate  account  of  the  results  of  moden 
research  into  the  early  development  of  the  Israelitish  religion.  Without  atten>pt< 
ing  to  set  forth  the  facts  and  considerations  by  wliich  the  most  thorough  and  ac- 
complished scholars  have  reached  their  conclusions  respecting  the  origin  and  date 
of  the  several  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  those  conclusions  are  briefly  statedf 
and  the  gradual  development  of  the  Jewish  form  of  religion  traced  down  to  the 
Christian  era.  .  .  . 

The  translator  says  that  there  may  be  those  who  will  be  painfully  startled  by 
tome  of  the  statements  which  are  made  in  the  work.  In  his  view,  however,  it  is 
Ear  better  that  the  young  especially  should  learn  from  those  who  are  friendly  to 
religion  what  is  now  known  of  the  actual  origin  of  the  Scriptures,  rather  than  to 
be  left  in  ignorance  till  they  are  rudely  awakened  bv  the  enemies  of  Christian'.ty 
firom  a  blind  and  unreasoning  faith  in  the  supernatural  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures. 

Front  the  Providtnct  youmal. 

If  this  Manual  were  not  an  exponent  of  Dutch  theologians  in  high  repute 
among  their  pwn  countr3rmen,  and  ii  it  were  not  an  expression  of  the  honest  con- 
viction of  Rev.  J.  Knappert,  the  pastor  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church  ^t  Leiden, 
we  should  feel  inclined  to  pass  it  by,  for  it  is  not  pleasant  to  have  doctrines  ana 
facts  rudely  questioned  that  have  been  firmly  held  as  sacred  truths  for  a  lifetime. 
And  yet  one  cannot  read  "  The  Religion  of  Israel "  without  feeling  that  the  writer 
is  an  earnest  seeker  after  the  truth,  and  has  carefully  weighed  and  diligently  exam- 
ined the  premises  on  which  his  arguments  are  based,  and  the  conclusions  which  he 
l^^sents  as  the  result  of  his  researches.  ;  .  •_ 

The  book  is  one  of  singular  and  stirring  interest :  it  speaks  with  an  air  of  au- 
thority that  will  command  attention ;  and,  though  it  ruthlesslv  transforms  time- 
honored  beliefs  into  myths  and  poetic  allegories,  it  makes  its  Sold  attacks  with  a 
reverent  hand,  and  an  evident  desire  to  present  the  truth  and  nothing  but  tha 
tnith. 

From  the  Boston  Christian  Renter. 

Here  we  have,  for  a  dollar,  just  what  many  liberal  Sunday  schools  are  praying 
tax,  —  a  book  which  gives  in  •  compact  form  the  conclusions  of  the  "  advanced 
scholarship"  concerning  the  Old  Testament  record.  Taking  Kuenen's  great 
'  History  of  Israel"  for  a  guide.  Dr.  Knappert  has  outlined  what  may  be  aXitA 
the  reverently  rational  view  of  that  religious  literature  and  development  which  led 
ap  to  "  the  fulness  of  times,"  or  the  beginning  of  Christianity. 


Sold  everywhere  by  all  Booksellers.    Matted,  postpaid,  ty 
the  Publishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS.  Boston. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 

POSITIVE  RELIGION. 

ESSAYS,   FRAGMENTS,   AND    HINTS. 

By  JOSEPH  HENRY  ALLEN, 

Author  of  "  Christian  History  in  its  Three  Great  Periods," 

"  Hebrew  Men  and  Times,"  etc. 

16MO.      CI_OTH.      PRICE,     SI-25. 

Among  the  subjects  treated  may  be  noted  the  following,  viz. : 
"  How  Religions  Grow,"  "  A  Religion  of  Trust,"  "  The  World- Re- 
ligions," "  The  Death  of  Jesus,"  "  The  Question  of  a  Future  Life," 
"  The  Bright  Side,"  "  Religion  and  Modern  Life,"  etc. 

The  subjects  are  discussed,  as  one  will  indeed  plainly  see,  by  a  learned 
Christian  scholar,  and  from  that  height  in  life's  experience  which  one  reaches 
at  three  score  and  ten  years.  They  treat  of  the  growth  of  religion  ;  of  relig- 
ion as  an  experience;  of  the  terms  "Agnostic"  and  "God";  of  the  mystery 
of  pain,  of  immortality  and  kindred  topics.  The  author  is  among  the  best 
known  of  the  older  Unitarians,  and  the  breadth  of  his  views,  together  with  his 
modesty  of  statement  and  ripeness  of  judgment,  give  the  book  a  charm  not  too 
common  in  religious  works.     The  literary  style  is  also  pleasing.  —  Advertiser, 

This  little  volume  of  260  pages  contains  much  that  is  fresh  and  interesting 
and  some  things  which  are  true  only  from  a  Unitarian  standpoint.  It  is 
always  delightful  to  read  an  author  who  knows  what  he  is  writing  about, 
and  can  present  his  thoughts  in  a  clear  and  forcible  manner.  His  intention 
is  to  exhibit  religion  not  so  much  "as  a  thing  of  opinion,  of  emotion,  or  of 
ceremony,  as  an  element  in  men's  own  experience,  or  a  force,  mighty  and 
even  passionate,  in  the  world's  afifairs."  Such  an  endeavor  is  highly  lauda- 
ble, and  the  work  has  been  well  done.  —  Christian  Mirror, 

A  collection  of  a  acute,  reverent,  and  suggestive  talks  on  some  of  the  great 
themes  of  religion.  Many  Christians  will  dissent  from  his  free  handling  of 
certain  traditional  views,  dogmas  of  Christianity,  but  they  will  be  at  once  with 
him  in  his  love  of  goodness  and  truth,  and  in  his  contention  that  religion  finds 
its  complete  fruition  inthe  lives  rather  than  the  speculative  opinions  of  men, — . 
A^.  Y.  Tribune. 

Mr,  Allen  strikes  straight  out  from  the  shoulder,  with  energy  that  shows 
his  natural  force  not  only  unabated,  but  increased  with  added  years.  "  At 
Sixty :  A  New  Year  Letter "  is  sweet  and  mellow  with  the  sunshine  of  the 
years  that  bring  the  philosophic  mind.  But  we  are  doing  what  we  said  that 
we  must  not,  and  must  make  an  arbitrary  end.  Yet  not  without  a  word  of 
admiration  for  the  splendid  force  and  beauty  of  many  passages.  These  are 
the  product  of  no  artifice,  but  are  uniformly  an  expression  of  that  humanity 
which  is  the  writer's  constant  end  and  inspiration.  In  proportion  as  this  finds 
free  and  full  expression,  the  style  assumes  a  warmth  and  color  that  not  only 
give  an  intellectual  pleasure,  but  make  the  heart  leap  up  with  sympathetic 
courage  and  resolve.  —  y.  W,  C. 

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Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications, 


CHRISTIAN  HISTORY 

IN  ITS  THREE  GREAT  PERIODS.  First  Period: 
Early  Christianity.  By  Joseph  Henry  Allen, 
Lecturer  on  Ecclesiastical  History  in  Harvard  Univer- 
sity. With  Chronological  Outline  and  Index,  and  an 
Introduction  on  the  Study  of  Christian  History.  i6mo. 
Cloth.    Price,  $1.25. 

Topics:  i.  The  Messiah  and  the  Christ;  2.  Saint  Paul; 
3.  Christian  Thought  of  the  Second  Century;  4.  The  Mind  of 
Paganism  ;  5.  The  Arian  Controversy ;  6.  Saint  Augustine  ;  7.  Leo 
the  Great ;  8.  Monasticism  as  a  Moral  Force ;  9.  Christianity  in 
the  East;  10.  Conversion  of  the  Barbarians;  11.  The  Holy  Ro- 
man Empire ;   12.  The  Christian  Schools  ;    13.  Canon  Law. 

"  In  whatever  way  we  regard  the  origin  and  early  growth  of  Christianity, 
whether  as  special  revelation  or  as  historic  evolution,  the  key  to  it  is  to  be 
found  not  in  its  speculative  dogma,  not  in  its  ecclesiastical  organization,  not 
even  in  what  strictly  constitutes  its  religious  life,  but  in  its  fundamentally 
ethical  character.  In  either  way  of  understanding  it,  it  is  first  of  all  a  gos- 
pel for  the  salvation  of  human  life."  — Preface. 

"I  have  read  your  Fragments  of  Christian  History  with  instruction  and  delight 
You  are  a  miracle  of  candor  and  comprehensiveness.  •  .  .  You  and  Dr.  Hedge  are 
almost  the  only  men  who  know  thoroughly  the  whole  grand  field  of  Ecclesiastical 
History.  ...  I  most  cordially  send  you  my  thanks  for  such  an  illumination  as  you 
have  given  me,  on  many  obscure  points  of  Christian  History."  —  E.  P.  Whipple 
to  the  Author. 

"  We  do  not  desire  to  state  an  unqualified  agreement  with  all  the  conclusions 
of  Professor  Allen,  and  yet  we  are  fi«e  to  confess  that  we  know  of  no  work  of  the 
same  scope  which  could  be  put  into  the  hands  of  a  thoughtful  young  man,  in 
which  he  could  find  so  much  sound  philosophy,  valuable  historical  review,  and 
devout  apprehension  of  essential  Christianity  as  he  will  find  in  '  Fragments  of 
Christian  History.'"  —  Chicago  Alliance. 


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publishers, 

ROBERTS  BROTHERS,   Boston. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 

The  Future  of  Science, 

By  ERNEST   RENAN. 

One  Volume.    8vo.    616  pages.    Cloth.    Price,  $2.60. 


"  It  would  be  difficult  to  name  a  man  of  literary  genius  comparable  in  breadth 
and  depth  of  learning,  or  fertility  and  charm  of  expression,  to  M.  Ernest  Renan. 
Certainly  in  all  France  there  is  none  like  him.  The  fact  is  just  as  plain  that  both 
in  and  out  of  France  he  has  been  persistently  misunderstood  by  certain  of  his 
readers,  and  misrepresented  by  those  who  have  not  and  will  not  read  him.  He 
has,  for  instance,  been  called  a  man  without  a  religion,  and  now,  as  though  in 
answer  to  this  statement,  and  by  way  of  refuting  the  commoner  charge  that  levity 
is  the  characteristic  and  habitual  frame  of  mind  in  which  he  lives,  he  has  pub- 
lished a  volume  entitled  'The  Future  of  Science'  (Boston:  Roberts  Brothers), 
wherein  he  suras  up  the  new  faith  which  with  him  has  replaced  '  shattered 
Catholicism.'  .  .  . 

"  It  should  not  be  supposed  that  M.  Renan  is  here  seriously  attempting  to 
found  a  new  religion,  or  even  to  formulate  a  new  system  of  philosophy.  We  have 
read  the  volume  rather  as  a  personal  statement  of  the  delights  of  learning  and  of 
productive  scholarship,  and  as  such  it  has  a  distinct  and  rare  value.  Nowhere 
does  it  open  itself  to  a  profitable  criticism  that  would  refuse  to  challenge  the 
veracity  of  the  author." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  Although  Ernest  Renan  wrote  much  of  this  book  many  years  ago  (shortly 
after  he  left  the  Catholic  Church)  it  is  to-day  an  epitome  of  the  most  advanced 
modern  thought.  In  a  style  so  exquisitely  simple  that  we  think  not  of  the  words 
nor  of  the  writer  but  only  of  the  thought,  he  sums  up  what  science  has  done  for 
us  already.  We  are  brought  into  full  view  of  the  idols  it  has  knocked  down.  .  With 
clear  vision  we  can  look  back  and  see  the  long  road  up  which  the  human  race  has 
toiled  ;  our  eyes,  thanks  to  science,  unclouded  by  superstition,  can  study  it.  And 
how  much  man's  position  has  altered  !  He  was  not  especially  created.  He  was 
not  foreordained  to  everlasting  punishment,  nor  elected  to  eternal  bliss.  And 
this  great  change  of  thought,  affecting  the  foundations  of  our  social,  political, 
and  religious  being,  we  owe  to  science.  ■  .  . 

Will  science  ever  clear  away  the  rubbish  and  show  us  a  broader,  fairer  land 
than  that  which  has  encouraged  the  toilers  before  ?  Renan's  book  gives  great 
hope  of  this.  It  is  written  in  a  tone  of  courage  and  cheerfulness  that  is  very  in- 
spiring. He  admits  the  danger  of  the  transition  period,  the  relaxation  of  moral 
strength  with  the  stimulus  removed.  "  Chimeras  have  succeeded  in  obtaining 
from  the  good  gorilla  an  astonishing  moral  effort ;  do  away  with  the  chimeras  and 
part  of  the  factitious  energy  they  aroused  will  disappear."  But  when  between  the 
lines  of  this  book  we  can  detect,  as  we  do,  a  spirit  devout,  tender,  upr.ght,  cheer- 
ful, and  serene,  it  seems  that  the  future  state  of  pure  rationalism  which  science 
aims  to  bring  about  would  not  be  incompatible  with  human  goodness  and  happi- 
ness.",—  Chicago  Tribune- 


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lishers. 

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Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers^  Publications. 

HEBREW  MEN  AND  TIMES 

FROM   THE 

lPatriarc{)S  to  ti)e  iHessfei)* 

By  JOSEPH   HENRY  ALLEN, 
Lecturer  on  Ecclesiastical  History  in  Harvard  University. 

New  Edition,  with  an  Introduction  on  the  results  of  recent  Old 
Testament  criticism.  Chronological  Outline  and  Index.  i6mo. 
Price,  $1.50. 

Topics,  i.  The  Patriarchs;  2.  Moses;  3.  The  Judges; 
4.  David ;  5.  Solomon ;  6.  The  Kings ;  7.  The  Law  ;  8.  The 
Prophets;  9.  The  Captivity ;  10.  The  Maccabees;  11.  The  Alex- 
andrians;   12.  The  Messiah. 

Extraa  from  the  Preface:  "...  There  seemed  room  and  need  of  a  dear, 
brief  sketch,  or  outline ;  one  that  should  spare  the  details  and  give  the  re- 
sults of  scholarship  ;  that  should  trace  the  historical  sequences  and  connec- 
dons,  without  being  tangled  in  questions  of  mere  erudition,  or  literary 
discussions,  or  theological  polemics  ;  that  should  preserve  the  honest  inde- 
pendence of  scholarly  thought,  along  with  the  temper  of  Christian  faith ; 
that  should  not  lose  from  sight  the  broad  perspective  of  secular  history, 
while  it  should  recognize  at  each  step  the  hand  of  '  Providence  as  manifest 
in  Israel.'    Such  a  want  as  this  the  present  volume  aims  to  meet." 

Rev.  O.  B.  Frothingham  in  the  Christian  Examiner. 

"  We  shall  be  satisfied  to  have  excited  interest  enough  in  the  theme  to  induce 
readers  to  take  up  Mr.  Allen's  admirable  book  and  trace  through  all  the  richness 
and  variety  of  his  detail  the  eventful  history  of  this  Hebrew  thought.  His  pages, 
with  which  we  have  no  fault  to  find  save  the  very  uncommon  fault  of  being  too 
crowded  and  too  few,  will  throw  light  on  many  things  which  must  be  utterly  dark 
now  to  the  unlearned  mind ;  they  will  also  revive  the  declining  respect  for  a  ven- 
erable people,  and  for  a  faith  to  which  we  owe  much  more  than  some  of  us  suspect. 
For,  however  untrammelled  Mr.  Allen's  criticism  may  be,  his  thought  is  always 
serious  and  reverential.  And  the  reader  of  his  pages,  while  confessing  that  their 
author  has  cleared  away  many  obstructions  in  the  way  of  history,  will  confess  also 
that  he  has  only  made  fi-eer  the  access  to  the  halls  of  faith.  There  is  no  light  or 
loose  or  unbecoming  sentence  in  the  volume.  There  is  no  insincere  paragraph. 
There  is  no  heedless  line.  And  this  perhaps  is  one  of  the  greatest  charms  of  the 
book  ;  for  it  is  rare  indeed  that  both  intellect  and  heart  are  satisfied  with  tb« 
aame  letters." 

Sold  everywhere  by  all  booksellers.  Mailed,  post-paid,  by  the 
publishers. 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Boston. 


University  of  Caiifornia 

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405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 

MAY  0  5   1992 


A     000  168  399     4 


